How Long Should We Two Wait
by Midnight Rain1
Summary: Christine is haunted by her dreams and the past. A move back to Paris seems that it will amend things, until Christine finds herself in terrible danger. Can she be saved? Can the past ever truly be forgotten? E/C eventually
1. The promise

Disclaimer: Ok, listen up. Does this stuff look familiar?? Of course it does! Because it's not mine! Not at all! I suppose I have to say it belongs to Gaston Leroux, but does it really? He doesn't really own these people. They own themselves. Well, they're still not mine at any rate. Some quotes from ALW may be used somewhere in this story. Anything else that you recognize, I make no claim to own. So yes, I think that's quite enough of that nonsense.

A/N: My first phic!!! Ahhhh!!!!! Don't be too hard on me, it's my first remember! But do give me a chance! I have what I think is a very good plan for this story and I hope it will work out and people will read this!! Um…let's see, I'm an Erik lover, but promise to be very very nice to Raoul. I promise! :) 

Background: Only a month after Raoul and Christine fled the opera house. They left Paris together and left for a small home that the Chagny family owned in northern France. They have plans for their wedding if life can ever return to normal. But there is no telling how long that will be. You don't just forget an ordeal like the one Christine went through. She'll never forget, can she possibly move on and take back her life?

Christine looked on with horror as a rope suddenly appeared around Raoul's neck. She cried out and ran to him, but before she reached him, his body was pulled into the air and out of sight. She shouted his name, but there was no reply. She screamed. And then she woke up.

She was screaming when she awoke, with tears streaming down her face. Raoul came rushing into her bedroom as he seemed to do almost every night. Christine was plagued with such horrible nightmares, but there was nothing that could be done. 

Raoul did his best to comfort her as he always did. But even he couldn't penetrate the depth of Christine's despair. She was always haunted by the fact that she had killed _him_. The man who had saved her when she was so distraught that she had wished herself dead. He had brought her to life and she had taken his in return. 

But in her nightmares, his anger could easily return and she could once again see what horrible things he was capable of. 

But in her dreams, she saw his broken form, crying for her to come back to him. She could never reach him in those dreams and she woke with such a horrible pain in her very soul that she could never get back to sleep.

After promising Raoul that she would be all right, he went back to his room and Christine lay back on her pillows. She wouldn't be all right. She didn't sleep again that night.

The next day she and Raoul went for a pleasant stroll through the garden behind the house. It was more like a miniature park really, with trees and benches and more flowers than you could ever count. There were no flowers then because of the season. It wasn't quite spring, but small green leaves were appearing on the ground and on the tree branches. It was really quite pretty with the white frost that covered everything. They said not a word, but walked arm in arm silently, enjoying the beauty and peacefulness of the place.

At noon, they went inside the house for lunch. 

"Christine?" Raoul said to her from across the table.

She looked up at him. She'd been idly picking at her food. She wasn't feeling very hungry.

"Christine, how would you like to go out for dinner tonight? You rarely get out of this house, what do you say?" He smiled softly as he awaited her reaction and was pleased when she smiled.

"That sounds like a lovely idea Raoul."

That night, Christine rather enjoyed preparing for the night out as it had been so long since had really gone out. She selected a hunter green gown. The bodice was velvet, while the skirt was a lovely satin. It was one of her favorites. She tied back half of her hair and let the rest of her curls hang down her back. She also took her ivory cloak that looked stunning with the deep green of her dress.

Raoul took her to the best restaurant in the small town that was near the house they were staying in. It was a lovely little place with crisp white tablecloths on all the tables and it was lit by hundreds of candles, giving the place a very elegant, romantic look. There was even a violinist as entertainment for the patrons as they ate.

As they sat down at their table Christine breathed, "Oh Raoul, this place is wonderful."

Raoul smiled as she admired the restaurant. "I had hoped you would like it. I've been waiting for a chance to take you here."

Their meal was as lovely as everything else in the restaurant and Christine found that she was truly enjoying herself. Raoul had succeeded in taking her mind off of _him_ even if it was only for a little while. It hurt him to see her pain and anguish. He wished there was some way he could simply diminish it, but he didn't know what he could possibly do. He had no way of knowing just how she felt, he'd never be able to relate to it.

The evening was going extremely well. That is until the violinist began to play a new song. A song that was awfully familiar to Christine. As the violin began to play, Christine dropped her fork in shock. 

"Christine…" Raoul frowned at her. "Christine, what is it?" But she didn't answer, she jumped up and ran for the door of the restaurant.

"Christine!" Raoul called after her. He left enough money on the table to cover the bill and ran after her.

He caught up with her right outside the door where she had dropped to her knees sobbing.

"Christine," he called to her softly as he knelt down beside her and pulled her close to him. But she pushed him away. She stood up abruptly and looked down at him with fire in her eyes. Then she ran toward the street and hailed a cab.

Raoul hurried to her and grabbed her arm before she could climb into the carriage. "Christine! What are you doing?" he asked, bewildered.

She looked at him, her eyes filled with tears. "Oh Raoul," she cried and fell into his arms. He lifted her into the carriage and instructed the driver to take them back to the house.

When they reached the house, Raoul helped her inside and led her gently to the couch in the parlor. "What happened Christine?" he asked her softly.

"Oh Raoul…" she said quietly. "It was that song… That song… The song that he always…" But she stopped, she couldn't go on.

She didn't need to, Raoul was able to guess quite easily what she was going to say. He stared at her unable to grasp or understand what she was feeling. He wished he could understand, but he simply couldn't fathom it.

Christine stood up and walked to the fireplace. Not looking at him, she said, "Please say something Raoul."

"Do you love me Christine?"

She turned to face him. She looked at him, trying to figure out where that question had come from.

"Do you really want to be here Christine?" he went on when she didn't answer. "You think only of him, yet you are here, is that what you want Christine? Do you love me?"

Her mind slowly processed what he was saying. Did he think she hadn't wanted to leave? Had she wanted to leave? Her mind spun. He took a few steps closer to her so he was standing beside her.

She looked at the floor. His hand gently lifted her chin upwards until his gaze met hers. He repeated his question, but she didn't hear it. She saw his lips moving, but couldn't hear a sound. Her eyes glazed over and soon she wasn't aware of anything anymore. 

She was completely lost in her thoughts, her memories. Of the man who hid in the shadows. The man who had entranced her with his voice. The man she had left behind. The man she may have just destroyed.

Her knees buckled and she fell to the ground.

"Christine!"

Raoul's voice sounded so far away. She felt herself slipping further and further from the world she knew. Or was she going to one she knew better? The world beneath the opera house. The man she may have just destroyed. Tears began to flow. That she may have just destroyed… She heard his screams as she had left with Raoul. The choice she'd had no time to make. She had left him there, alone.

She loved him. 

Suddenly, she looked up. Her mind cleared and she came crashing back to reality. She looked at Raoul. He was on the ground next to her. His hand rested on her shoulder and he was looking at her with such concern she thought her heart would break. Because she loved him too.

"Yes," she answered weakly.

"Oh Christine, you scared me," he said with relief as he helped her into a chair.

"Yes," she said again.

"Yes?" he asked her.

"I love you," she told him. She grabbed his hands and held them in her own. "I love you with all of my heart, please don't ever doubt that Raoul."

He smiled at her and they embraced.

"Promise me you won't ever doubt it," she whispered in his ear.

"I promise."

A/N: Alright, alright, this story will have a plot I promise!!! Lol, I have such big plans for this story!! Ahh! I'm so excited! Hopefully someone will share my excitement! Hm…how can I find out? Oh I know!! You have to review!!! Please review!!!!!!!!!! I don't care if you think this is the worst story you ever read! If it is then let me know! I love all feedback, good and bad. I don't mind! So review!!!!!!!!! Thank you kind readers, until next chapter then! :)


	2. Dreams of Death

Disclaimer: No, I haven't suddenly become the owner of these people since the last chapter, lol. No one owns them!!! Especially not me.

A/N: *grins because she has reviews* yay!! Thank you guys! You're awesome! *grins again* Oh and Uni…I guess you can whack Raoul. But just once! And not too hard! I need him for this story!! lol

She ran through the labyrinth underneath the opera house. The dark was extreme and her lantern was dim. She ran until she reached the lake where she stripped off her dress and dove right into the icy waters. Somehow she made it to the other side. With her lantern gone, she groped through the darkness for the door. She finally found it and sprinted into the house.

"Erik!" she screamed. "Erik! Where are you?" 

The house was destroyed. Everything was broken and thrown about the room. Nothing was left in order. Ripped pages of music littered the floor.

She waded through the debris. She reached the very edge of the room when she saw him.

"Erik!" she cried. She threw herself down next to him. "Erik…" 

His clothes were soaked with blood and his eyes were closed.

Her sobs erupted through the eerie silence of the house.

"No please!" she screamed hysterically as she lifted him up slightly.

His eyes fluttered open and his hand reached up towards her face.

"Christine…why…" His hand dropped before it reached her cheek. She threw her arms around his still body as her body racked with her terrible cries. 

She threw her head back and screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Christine!" 

Raoul's voice pulled her out of the nightmare.

She stared at him in the dim light of the room, lit only by the candle Raoul held in his hands. 

Suddenly she jumped out of the bed and took off at a run through the house.

"Christine!" Raoul called after her. But she wasn't listening. She sprinted down the stairs, her hair flying wildly behind her as she ran.

Raoul finally caught up with her as she was about to fling open the front door.

"Christine! Christine what are you doing?" he said frantically as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. He was frightened by this terrible frenzy.

"Let go of me Raoul!" she yelled. "Please! I have to help him! Let me go!" she pleaded.

"Christine, Christine it was a dream!" he told her calmly. He pulled her closer into his arms and she sagged to the floor. He followed her down. "It was just a dream Christine, it's alright," he said comfortingly. He rocked her in his arms as if she were a child and smoothed her hair soothingly. "A dream and nothing more."

The next day didn't look to be a good one. The weather was terrible. Rain beat down on the roof causing a dull thumping to echo through the house.

Raoul had held Christine for a long time. She had clung to him and cried until she had no tears left inside of her. Then he had picked her up and taken her back to her bed. She was exhausted from her crying and slipped back into sleep. She slept peacefully for the rest of the night, despite her horrible nightmare earlier.

When she woke up the next day, she found Raoul had breakfast in bed ready for her in an attempt to cheer her up, it seemed. She appreciated what he was trying to do, but hated the way it made her feel. It made her feel like she was a burden that he needed to care for. She sighed and smiled at him in thanks.

He grinned. "But Christine, I do have some bad news. I have to go out today, will you be alright on your own?" he asked her.

She admired his concern, but still…she didn't want to be pampered over this. It was just a stupid nightmare…wasn't it?

She and Raoul enjoyed their breakfast. He kissed her on the cheek and left the house. Christine sighed and pulled herself out of bed. She got dressed slowly. It was one of those days where she didn't really feel like doing anything. 

She got out a book she had been reading and sat on the bed. But she couldn't concentrate on the story, she was recalling the image in her dream. Of Erik's body… She slammed the book shut and threw it across the room suddenly.

"Erik…" she whispered. 

She sat on the edge of the bed, lost in her own thoughts. She left Erik to die. Silent tears began to make their way down her cheeks. Within in seconds she was sobbing. She slid off the bed and onto the floor. She was blinded by the continuous stream of tears sliding down her face. 

She looked up at the full-length mirror in front of her. Her sobs abruptly stopped. She stood up on wobbly legs and walked slowly towards the mirror, transfixed on her reflection. She brought her fingertips up and slowly ran them over the cool, smooth glass. She started to sing softly. The song she always sang when he appeared to her. She sank to the ground, her fingers still on the mirror. She let her head fall onto the glass and willed the mirror to let her fall straight through. This time she knew he wasn't coming.

"Please let me through," she said to the mirror, knowing that it was useless. "Stories like this can't come true…" she said softly and the tears came again.

Raoul found her sometime later the same way, leaning against the mirror, her face stained with tears. He gathered her up in his arms and placed her on the bed.

"Raoul…." She whispered.

"I'm here darling," he said, sitting down and taking her hand.

"Mmmm…" she said in her daze. She was slowly slipping into that exhausted anguished sleep we've all heard about oh so many times.

"What is it Christine?" Raoul urged her.

"Erik…."

Raoul sighed as she drifted off to sleep. He was beginning to wonder if she'd ever be able to move past what had happened with that…Erik… 

He knelt down next to the bed. "Tell me what I can do Christine," he whispered. She mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over.

Raoul stood up heavily and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

Christine woke up an hour later, screaming yet again. She'd dreamt of Erik's death again. She couldn't stand it any longer. The thought tormented her constantly, every second of every day. She had to know. Did her dreams hold the truth? Was Erik really dead?

"This has to stop," she said to herself quietly. She quickly pulled on her shoes and her cloak and headed for the door. She glanced into the den on the way out and saw Raoul sitting by the fire. Raoul… He'd worry when he found her gone. She decided to leave a note so he'd know she was alright. She left it where she knew he'd find it and left the house.

The rain was still coming down in sheets. Christine hardly noticed. She looked around quickly and took off at a run for the town. She arrived there soaked to the skin. She jumped into the first carriage she found and instructed the driver to take her to Paris. It wasn't that far really…she'd be there in two hours at the most.

She leaned back into the soft seat and sighed. "What am I doing?"

A/N: Alright, I promise a plot. It's coming up soon….lol :) Please review!!!!! I wanna know what you think!!!! Thanks!!!! :)


	3. Angel of Music, Do not shun me

Disclaimer: You can't claim to own a person, that'd be a form of slavery… Erik as my slave….hmm….

A/N: Hello everybody! Thank you so much to those who reviewed! And now what you've all been waiting for! An encounter with Erik! Yay! Let's all cheer! lol

It took longer than Christine expected to reach Paris. She finally stepped out of the carriage right in front of the opera house. Now that she was actually there, she wasn't sure if she actually had the courage to go inside.

She stood there in the pouring rain staring up at the massive building. She bounced lightly to try to wake up her legs from the long ride. 

"What am I doing here?" It had been such an incredibly spur of the moment thing that now she was having second thoughts about being back in Paris. She couldn't decide whether she was actually afraid or just nervous about what she might find inside. 

"Well, I didn't come here for no reason," she said bravely and walked inside. She heard sounds coming from the auditorium. She looked up at the large clock in the foyer and saw that it was still early and rehearsals were probably still going on.

She didn't go inside. She wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone who'd ask questions at the moment.

Christine actually was starting to doubt her daring at coming all the way there alone, without even letting Raoul know! She made her way quietly through the building and to her old dressing room. She pressed her ear to the door to make sure no one was inside. When she heard nothing, she opened the door silently.

As she stepped inside she saw that the room had obviously been abandoned. Of course, she thought, who would want to stay in the room connected with the opera ghost? A thin layer of dust covered everything in the room, including the massive mirror on the wall. Christine picked up one of the dresses hanging in the small wardrobe. She rolled it up and wiped the mirror until it was free of dust and she could see herself clearly.

She lifted her fingertips to the glass just as she had done with her own mirror earlier. 

Erik didn't know why he was doing this. There was no purpose and it would probably just cause him more pain, which was definitely not something he needed just then. 

He rowed slowly and silently across the lake wondering all the while what had possessed him to leave his home in the first place. But, he thought with a sigh, he had already come this far.

He docked the boat and stared upwards through the passageways. He straightened himself and walked resolvedly forward. His feet easily found their way to that place behind the mirror…

As he approached he felt his knees weaken. "What am I doing?" he quietly questioned himself. "Why am I doing this to myself?"

He glared at the back of the mirror. He was angry with himself. This little field trip he had decided upon was not going to wear well with his sanity he knew.

But, he thought again, he had come this far. He walked up to the mirror and peered through it. Christine's dressing room was exactly the same as it had been the last time he'd seen it. Nothing had changed at all. 

His fingers pressed up against the glass as he stared hungrily around the room. He wanted so desperately for Christine to just walk into the room, apologize for being late and begin her lesson. He felt his features tighten at the thought of her, the thought of her singing for him. His legs failed him and he fell to the floor. He felt tears begin to form. 'Why did I come here?!' he thought angrily. He had known what this little excursion would do to him and yet…he had come anyway. It was as if he was being drawn there. 'I shouldn't have come,' he thought bitterly.

But his angry thoughts didn't banish his despair as he had hoped. He let out a shaky breath and succumbed to his anguish. He didn't know how long he sat there, huddled on the ground, with his hand pressed against the mirror.

He was startled when he heard the sound of the door opening. He quickly collected himself and glared in the direction of the door. Would someone else be occupying this room? _Her_ room? His mind raced wildly as he thought up ways he might scare someone away from here. He stared anxiously at the doorway as it opened ever so slowly. Then a face appeared, peeking nervously through the space the door had left.

And Erik's heart stopped. 

His body stopped. His head spun, he couldn't breathe as Christine appeared in the dressing room. His body ever so slowly started to function again. He blinked rapidly to make sure she was real. She didn't disappear. She remained, alive, in the flesh, she was within a few feet of him. He couldn't seem to move, though he desperately wanted to just run to her, sweep her into his arms… But all he could do was stare at her numbly as she examined the room.

Her attention turned to the mirror and Erik's breath caught painfully in his chest as she came up so close to the mirror she was almost touching it. He watched as she dusted it off. Erik struggled to keep his breathing from becoming ragged for fear she would hear him. 

Christine slowly lifted her fingertips to the glass. Erik watched dazedly as his own hand moved upwards and met hers. He cursed the glass that separated them. He knew that he could easily open the mirror, but this moment…he couldn't spoil it.

He gazed at her through the glass. As he stared he thought he saw tears forming in her eyes. But why would she be crying? 

"Erik?" she whispered.

Erik nearly jumped out of his skin. Had he made a noise? Could she see him somehow? But no…as he looked at her he saw that she hadn't been questioning his presence…but calling his name. Why would she do that? Surely she didn't miss him. 

He turned away from the glass, his anger beginning to flare. Why had she come here? It was torture for him to be this close to her! She had no right to come back and destroy him all over again…

He turned back. He was surprised to see tears running down her cheeks. He hated when she cried. It always hurt him so much to see her unhappy… 

'Which is why I let her go!' he reminded himself angrily. Why would she come here if it would cause her sadness.

"Erik…please." Christine began talking to the mirror Erik noticed. Not really to him, but as one would talk to themselves. He remained silent and listened as she spoke. Her voice…oh how good it was to hear her voice again!

"God Erik, I'm so sorry," she turned away from the mirror now and began to pace around the room. "How could I have done something like that to him!" She paused. "Is he even here anymore?" She looked around desperately as if hoping to see him hidden in some corner. Finding nothing she returned to the mirror. "I could go through," she contemplated to herself. "I could go and see for myself…"

She bit her lip, unsure of what to do now that she had arrived. She wasn't sure what she had expected would happen. Did she think that Erik would just appear and have a solution to everything? It would be stupid to think that.

She collapsed onto the chair in front of the vanity. She put her face into her hands and her shoulders began to shake. 'What am I doing here?' she asked herself.

Erik couldn't take it anymore. His heart was splitting at the sight of her looking so sad. She shouldn't know such sadness. 

"Christine…" he whispered before he could stop himself.

Her head immediately shot up. 

"Erik?" she questioned carefully.

He sighed. He knew speaking to her right now probably wouldn't end well, but it was too late now. She knew he was there. 

She called him again when he didn't respond. What would he say? What _could_ he say? For the first time in his life, he was at a total loss for words. So, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Why are you here?"

She faltered. "I…can't you come out here Erik? Please?"

It seemed like forever since she had seen him last and she felt like she needed proof that she wasn't imagining him talking to her. He hesitated at her request. He didn't know if he could handle this. At least this way there was a barrier between them… But he would never deny her anything.

"As you wish." He slid open the panel and stepped into the room.

Christine struggled to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape her lips. Erik didn't look his normal majestic self at all. He was so terribly thin and he looked like he hadn't slept right…in a month.

He stepped closer to her automatically. Christine felt her legs begin to shake and then give out. Erik caught her swiftly before she could fall. She grabbed his arms to steady herself. He held her up and she though she could have resumed standing on her own, she still clung to him. Erik carefully made sure she could stand and removed himself from her grip. He retreated back a few steps and turned to face the wall. His emotions were threatening him again. He couldn't let any dams burst now, not with Christine a few feet away…

"Why are you here?" he asked again.

"I…" Christine began, but again she faltered. "I don't know…"

"You don't know?" Erik repeated cynically.

"Erik I…" she said and lightly touched his shoulder. Erik spun around with such force that he threatened to knock her over. She backed away, frightened by the look in his eyes. "Do not touch me," Erik said through clenched teeth.

Christine back away further. "I'm sorry Erik," she whispered. "I cam because…because…I've had such horrible dreams…dreams about you. You were…you were, in the dreams…"

"As you can see I'm perfectly fine," he responded coolly.

Christine's courage returned. "And what if I don't believe that you're fine?!" she cried. She wasn't fine, surely this must have been a thousand times harder on Erik.

He advanced on her slowly making her shrink back. "And what makes you think that you have the right to presume anything about me?" he growled at her. 

He looked into her eyes and saw them filled with fear. His heart gave a pang of guilt. Why was he hurting her like this? Suddenly he just couldn't take it anymore. His soul couldn't handle her being there. He turned around, "Just go Christine," he said softly.

"Erik," she breathed.

"Go!" he shouted. "Just go and leave me as you did before!" 

She took a last look at him, and then she ran.

Erik dropped to his knees, "Christine!" he screamed in anguish.

She heard his cry, but didn't stop. She ran through the opera house, pushing through a crowd of ballerinas who stood in the foyer and ran out into the streets of Paris with no idea where to go next.

A/N: Please Review!!!! It means a lot to me! Thanks! :) 

Coming soon: More plot….lol!!


	4. Danger?

Disclaimer: Surely you don't think any of these people belongs to me…

A/N: Thank you to my lovely reviewers! You guys are awesome :)

Raoul looked up as the clock in the study began to chime. He decided to check on Christine, it was odd that she had been asleep so long.

He knocked softly on her bedroom door, but received no answer. He opened the door slightly. She wasn't there. Raoul closed the door and frowned. Where could she be? He began to make his way through the house, but couldn't find Christine anywhere.

He went back to Christine's room and this time noticed something on her pillow. It was a note addressed to him. He picked it up and read it quickly. He let the small piece of paper fly out of his hands and he took off at a run for the door.

The note read as follows:

Raoul- 

_Please do not worry about me. I'll be back soon, I just don't know exactly when. You know of the dreams I have. I have to resolve them. I love you._

_Christine_

Raoul's heart pounded with fear as he hurried to town so he too could find a way to Paris. There was no time for one to be summoned to the house. He knew where she'd gone and he knew he had to stop her or she may not be coming back.

He, like Christine, found a cab driver who was willing to bring him to Paris. As he rode, he wondered how long ago she had left and how she could have left without him noticing. As he got closer to his destination his fear mounted. What if the ghost…no, the man…what if he'd found her? What if he wouldn't let her go this time? He shuddered. What on earth possessed her to do such a thing?

The carriage stopped in front of the opera house on Raoul's instructions. He paid the driver and raced toward the building.

Erik remained in Christine's dressing room for quite sometime. He felt like tearing his hair out, or breaking everything in the room, or killing someone. But he knew that none of those things would change what he had just done. Christine… Christine had come back and he had chased her away. He remembered the look in her eyes, just before she ran out of the room and he felt like a knife had been stabbed through his chest.

He wanted to run after her, tell her he was sorry for what had happened. But he couldn't. Who knows where she had gone? He had let his raging emotions get the better of him and now he had lost Christine again. But the burning question was still unanswered. Why had she really come here?

Madame Giry watched as the ballerinas parted and a young woman ran past their group in tears. She let a gasp escape her when she realized who that young woman was. The shock didn't fade from her features as she realized where that young woman must have come from.

Madame Giry started towards the Phantom's lair, but stopped. Christine wouldn't have gone done there alone would she? She decided a better place to look would be her old dressing room. She hurried down the corridors and found herself outside the door. She opened it quickly.

Erik was still there, sitting calmly on the small divan. He didn't acknowledge her presence as she entered the room.

"What have you done?" Madame Giry said as she saw him.

Erik still didn't look at her. He stared down at his hands, unmoving.

Madame Giry moved a little closer to him. "Monsieur?" she asked.

Finally he looked up and she could see the pain in his eyes that he was trying hopelessly to hide. She instantly felt bad for speaking to him so harshly.

"What happened?" she asked, much more gently than before.

He stared at her, as if he still didn't comprehend what had happened. "She was here," he finally managed to say.

"What did you do to her Erik?" she asked.

Erik's eyes narrowed. "What would make you think I had anything to do with this?" he asked angrily. "She came here, she was calling me, and…" he trailed off, his anger fading. "She does this to me; I let my anger get carried away. You know I would never harm her, but…" He sighed.

"She was in tears when she left here you know," Madame Giry informed him. "But I don't understand, why was she here?"

"I wish I knew the answer to that myself."

Christine had no idea where she was going. She just let her legs carry her as she ran as fast as she could away from the opera house. She stopped suddenly and found that she was sobbing. She leaned against the wall of a building to catch her breath. She couldn't run anymore, she didn't have the strength. She realized slowly that she really needed to get inside; it was very dark and still raining quite hard. She walked into the building she was leaning against and realized she had walked into a bar.

She had intended to leave at once. She knew that it probably wasn't the best place for an unescorted woman to be late at night. She turned to walk back out the door when she heard a voice behind her.

"Excuse me mademoiselle."

She turned and saw a well-dressed young man standing before her.

"Are you alright miss?" he asked. Christine realized that she must look terrible, she was soaked to the skin and her eyes must be red from crying. 

"Yes, I'm alright, I just…" She suddenly felt dizzy as the events of the night came back to her with full force. "I think I just need to sit down."

"Well please, allow me to accompany you," he said and helped her to a table where she sunk gratefully into the chair he offered.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Claude Myrtil," he said. 

Even though he was a complete stranger, Christine couldn't help but trust this man, with his polite attitude and charming smile.

"Christine Daae," she said.

"Christine Daae…I've heard that name before. Are you a singer by any chance Miss Daae?"

"Yes," she answered, "I used to sing at the Opera Garnier."

He smiled at her. "Yes, that's it. I do remember you now. But are you not engaged to the Vicomte de Chagny? Where is he, if you don't mind my asking."

"No, it's alright. But he…he doesn't know I'm here," she admitted.

"Oh well please, will you allow me to escort you home?"

"That is very nice of you to offer Monsieur Myrtil, but I live quite a distance from here and it would quite an inconvenience for you to escort me."

"Well at least allow me to buy you a drink," he offered.

Christine accepted. She wasn't ready to go home just yet. She didn't know how Raoul would react to all of this and she needed to compose herself before returning to the house.

Raoul reached the top of the stairs and attempted to open the door, but to his dismay it was locked. He pounded on the door, hoping that someone would still be inside and let him in. Luckily for him, there was. It just so happened that Madame Giry was still inside and she heard the frantic knocking. She opened the door and was shocked to see Raoul standing outside. But, of course, he must have followed Christine.

"Monsieur de Chagny," she said.

"Madame Giry, please, Christine…" he began.

She cut him off, "She was here monsieur. I am sorry, I do not know where she went."

"But I must find her!" he said urgently. "She isn't…I mean, she hasn't seen…what if she's in danger?" 

Madame Giry held up her hand. "She is not in danger here monsieur," she said pointedly noticing the look on his face as she spoke those words.

"How can you say that?" he asked her.

"Because it is the truth monsieur." She knew he would never believe that even as she said it. 

He stared at her, disbelief clearly written all over his face. "Thank you Madame," he managed to say. He then turned right around and left. He looked around outside wondering where on earth he could begin to look for Christine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christine spent almost an hour with Claude. She found that she enjoyed talking to him; perhaps it really was best not to be alone when one is upset. He had heard her sing before and had been captivated by her voice. She blushed, but didn't say anything. Speaking of her voice would remind her of Erik. Of course, there wasn't much that didn't remind her of Erik. 

Noticing that it was getting rather late, Christine realized she had to get home; she still had quite a journey to make.

"I'm very sorry monsieur, but you'll have to excuse me. I really must be going," she said.

"Oh of course, please, allow me to see you to the door." He helped her out of her chair and walked her outside where he hailed a carriage for her.

However, before she climbed in, who should show up, but Raoul. He had been walking down the streets of Paris, frantically looking for some trace of Christine. He knew that it was possible that she had simply returned home after leaving the opera house, but what if she hadn't? What if she _was_  in danger?

Imagine his immense relief when he spotted her, safe. 

"Christine!"

Christine turned at his voice. She looked at him in shock. He'd followed her all the way to Paris? He ran to her and pulled her into his arms, "Oh Christine thank God you're safe! I was so worried Christine."

She pulled away from him, she was afraid his initial relief would wear off soon and he'd be angry with her for leaving the way she did. 

"Oh forgive me Claude, Raoul this is Claude Myrtil. Monsieur, the Vicomte de Chagny."

Raoul shook his hand, "Thank you sir, for taking care of my fiancée."

"My pleasure," Claude said simply. "Now Miss Daae, it seems you are in capable hands, I must be going." He kissed her hand and was gone.

"Christine, we really must get you home," Raoul said and gently guided her into the waiting carriage.

Claude watched, hidden in the shadows as the carriage rounded a corner and disappeared.

A/N: Well? I know you have an opinion on this story! So tell me how much you hate it! Or….if you find yourself enjoying this story, then let me know that too! Thanks so much! :)


	5. Paris

Disclaimer: If you recognize it from somewhere, then it's not mine.

A/N: Thank you reviewers :) You guys rock my world. Enjoy the next chapter! And Christine does not run once, lol.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

By the time the carriage had brought them home, Christine was flushed with anger. And Raoul claimed he didn't understand what had angered her! She stormed out of the cab as it stopped without waiting for Raoul to help her.

Raoul caught up with her before she walked through the door. He caught her arm and turned her around. "Christine, what is it? Why are you angry with me?" he said in bewilderment with a touch of frustration.

"He's not a monster Raoul!" she fumed.

Raoul sighed. "I'm sorry Christine."

Christine didn't respond. She walked slowly up to her room and sunk into the chair by the window. Her despair from earlier that night had faded with her anger at Raoul's inability to understand. But…it wasn't his fault. He couldn't know. He had no way of knowing. His first and only encounter with Erik hadn't exactly been under the best of circumstances.

She was going to sit and she was going to think. She wouldn't collapse in to tears, she wouldn't. She had to stop running away from this. What did she want…truly? She thought of Raoul. She was sorry she had yelled at him. He couldn't understand.

She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. She saw Erik. She saw him in her room, standing tall and majestic. He walked toward her and held out his hand. She smiled at him and took it. Suddenly they were transported to the Paris Opera. They were at the top of the grand staircase. People stood at the bottom smiling, as they slowly descended arm in arm. 

Christine smiled in her sleep. A dream of Erik, a dream that didn't end in heartbreak. When she woke up the next morning she felt at ease. And she went to talk to Raoul.

She found him sitting at the dining room table. She felt strangely calm although this promised to be an extremely difficult conversation. Silently, she sunk into the chair next to him. He didn't say anything.

"Please don't be angry with me Raoul," Christine said quietly.

Raoul's features softened. "Oh Christine, I could never be angry with you. I'm just upset that we fought the way we did last night. I'm so sorry," he finished, taking her hand.

Christine smiled at him. "I'm glad you're not angry. But Raoul…it's really me who should be sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Running away to Paris alone… She swallowed hard. "I was so frightened."

"I know you're afraid Christine, but it will be all right. Time will heal the past."

"Raoul, I need to talk to you," she said quickly. "I've been thinking. I know what a mess I have been, but I'm not now, I've thought this out quite rationally. Raoul, I want to go back to Paris. Please Raoul, I know you say time will heal the past. But what happened in that opera house isn't something that can just be forgotten! I need to come to terms with what happened and accept it. I can't stay here and hide from it. I need to go back."

Raoul gaped at her for a moment before answering. "Christine…there are so many bad memories there…"

"But there are so many good ones as well! Please Raoul, I need closure for all of this. I feel like I'm denying everything by staying hidden away in this house. Raoul, if I can survive in Paris then I know everything will be alright." 

She paused and felt tears stinging her eyes. "I love you Raoul, but…if you don't want this…I understand."

Raoul knelt down next to her chair and took her hands in his. "Christine…I would do anything for you, if you want to go back to Paris, then we will, together. And we'll get past all of this together."

Christine let a small cry of happiness escape her lips as Raoul rose to embrace her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she whispered, "Thank you Raoul."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Within two weeks, Raoul had found a house for them in Paris. Now all that was left to do was last minute packing and arrangements for the maintaining of the house that they had been living in.

The days seemed to fly by for Christine. Her heart had never felt lighter. They were going back. She wasn't exactly sure why it thrilled her so. By all means it really shouldn't have, but it did. She knew that deep down, she felt as if she were going back to Erik. As if simply moving to Paris would solve everything. This was her fantasy. Reality can never be easy.

Raoul and Christine moved into the house shortly after Raoul had found it. It was beautiful, smaller than what they had been living in, but by no means small. It was two stories high and painted a pale blue with white trim. Christine smiled when she saw it. It was perfect.

They were settled into the house within a few days. Christine felt better here. She was no longer running away. She was here to face her past and hopefully to find some closure for the chaos of that night at the opera house.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Christine studied the front of the Opera Garnier. She felt a lot better than the last time she had walked toward it she knew. This time there was no frantic running, no flaring emotions, no pouring rain. It was a beautiful peaceful day. Christine knew there would be rehearsal that day. And that meant she could see Meg again. She had missed her so much in the last few weeks. It was terrible being so far away. But today, she would see her.

She opened the door quietly and heard muted music playing. She walked into the auditorium and stood near the back so she could watch. 

Perfect, Christine thought. The corps de ballet was rehearsing. Christine watched the girls dance and watched Madame Giry command them for about a half an hour. They stopped and spread out and Christine assumed Madame Giry had given them one of their rare breaks. 

Christine didn't really want to attract the attention of the entire corps de ballet so when it looked like Meg was looking in her direction she waved. Meg squinted through the bright lights at her. She couldn't see who it was so she hopped off the stage and moved towards Christine. Halfway down the aisle she let out a shriek and took off at a run. She hurtled into Christine's open arms laughing with glee.

"Oh Christine! Is it really you? Oh you look wonderful!" Meg told her pulling away from the embrace.

Christine smiled, "It's so good to see you Meg. I have missed you."

"I've missed you as well, now quick sit down here and we can talk before my mother catches us! Now you really must tell me all about Raoul! How is he? Is he well? Wait…you haven't told me! What are you doing here? Not that I don't want you here of course."

Christine laughed a little. Meg was always so full of energy. "Raoul is quite well thank you. And Meg…we've moved back to Paris!" Christine was filled with the same energy Meg radiated as she said that last phrase.

Meg squealed with delight. "Oh Christine! That's wonderful! We'll be able to see each other again and talk whenever we please!" Meg brought her voice down lower and looked at Christine seriously then, "Are you coming back to the opera Christine?"

Christine stared at her. Go back to the opera? Well, of course she would love to return to the opera. But, it really wasn't the best idea. It would hurt Erik she knew…to be so close to her, but unable to have her. The idea of hurting Erik yet again… She couldn't come back.

"I can't Meg," she said quietly. "I would love to, but I just can't."

"I understand Christine," she said placing a comforting hand on Christine's arm.

"Meg Giry!" a stern voice called out.

"Sorry Christine I must go," Meg said quickly and hurried back to the stage.

Christine stood up as Madame Giry approached her. She smiled uneasily, "Hello Madame Giry."

She didn't answer, she took Christine's arm and led her out of the auditorium, no doubt so the ballet rats couldn't hear whatever she had to say.

"Christine, why are you here?" she asked immediately.

"Because…because Raoul and I have moved back to Paris," she said confidently.

"Do you really think that wise?"

Christine didn't know what to say so Madame Giry continued. "You were here before. You saw him."

Christine choked. "How did you know?"

"I saw you, I spoke to him. Do you really want to hurt him again Christine?"

Christine turned away to avoid Madame Giry seeing the tears in her eyes. "I didn't want to hurt him the first time. I didn't come here to hurt him. I came here to…" she stopped and turned back to her. "I need some conclusion in this. I think it would help both of us."

"The both of you?" she asked.

"You think I haven't been miserable everyday I've been away from here? I know what I did to him! I know! And I've been feeling that pain and guilt everyday!" She turned away again, even though it was quite obvious she was crying. 

Madame Giry softened and touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry Christine. Just…just be careful with the decisions you're making. And remember how much he loves you."

Then she was gone. Christine heard the music start up again and knew rehearsal had resumed. She composed herself, then turned and left the opera house. She walked home. It was not very far and it was a wonderful day. She arrived there in what seemed like no time at all. She sat down on the small bench on the porch and put her face in her hands. Madame Giry's words still echoed in her head.

"I'm sorry Erik."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Claude Myrtil sat on his balcony, enjoying the pleasant afternoon. He watched the people in the street below. Children chased after one another, couples strolled arm in arm, men in suits hurried down the street, carriages drove past. It was a pleasant scene. One that was made even more pleasant when he spotted Christine.

He leaned forward in his chair to make sure it was here, and indeed it was. She looked rather upset. He watched her until she rounded a corner. 

_Well, well, well, _he thought. _So Miss Christine Daae has returned to Paris. I shall have to pay her a visit sometime._

He was roused from his thoughts by a loud knock at his door. He opened the door. "You're late Jean. You know I hate it when you're late."

He stepped aside and let the man enter. "Well? Did you get the money?" Claude implored impatiently.

"Of course I did," Jean responded. "I wouldn't be here if I hadn't."

"And did he cooperate?"

"Well…not exactly. He needed a little persuasion," Jean grinned evilly.

"Well the blood is on your hands this time not mine."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A/N: OK, you might be thinking that Christine's attitude changed way to fast…but look at it like she had an epiphany, which she did in my opinion. She's going to try to put her life back in order. So yeah…I'm boring you sorry. Lol, anyway if you liked this story, hated this story, or just thought it was ok, please review!!! I love all compliments and all constructive criticisms! Thanks guys :)


	6. Interesting Encounter

Disclaimer: Shock, shock, surprise, surprise, still not mine.

A/N: Let's cut to the chase shall we?

Erik sat quietly, gazing absently into the fire. He knew Christine was back in Paris. Nothing that occurred in his opera house could escape his knowledge. He felt oddly placid at the moment. The initial anger and despair he had felt earlier had faded into a dull ache. He was used to this however. He watched as the flames licked the logs and danced with one another in the grate. He was separated from reality and nothing would force him to return until he was ready to do so. Until he heard a loud shout echo through the cellars. He shook himself, the horrible ache returning as he wondered who had wandered down this far into the cellars. He forced himself to his feet and out of the house to investigate. 

The shouts were still occurring. It was a strong male voice, and by the sound of it, the man was out of his mind with rage. There was another voice as well, a woman's voice. Erik recognized the voice, it was Madame Giry, but who was she with? Was she in danger? 

Erik hurried faster toward the shouting, but stopped dead as the words the man was saying became coherent.

"Christine!"

Erik's mind didn't seem to be functioning properly. It began to twist and turn. Christine? Why would someone be down in the cellars shouting Christine's name? The voice continued to shout, it was getting closer now. It seemed familiar to Erik, but he couldn't place it as his mind spun faster and faster. 

He could hear Madame Giry's words now as well. "Monsieur please! I promise you that she is not here! You must leave this place!"

Erik shrunk into the shadows as they came closer still. They rounded a bend at a run. Yes, the voice was familiar to Erik; it was none other than the Vicomte de Chagny. Erik stared. Why was he here? Slowly he put the pieces together. Raoul de Chagny, running around under the opera house, shouting Christine's name. Erik was beside himself. Did the Vicomte truly believe that he would take her again? 

Raoul was hurtling down the passage toward his home with Madame Giry at his heels. Erik was surprised at her speed. As they passed where Erik was hiding, he reached out and grabbed Madame Giry's arm, pulling her into the shadows with him. 

Madame Giry began to talk immediately. "Forgive me monsieur! I tried to stop him! Truly I did! But he wouldn't be stopped. He's convinced she is here monsieur! I don't know what put such an idea in his head…"

Erik held up his hand for Madame Giry's silence and she obeyed. "It is alright, but perhaps I should stop him before he destroys half of my home." And in a flash Erik was gone to do just that.

~~~Flashback to the night before~~~

Christine and Raoul sat together on the divan in front of the fire. Christine leaned against his chest as he held her close to him. It was so peaceful in the silent room. Christine's eyelids began to droop. She was soon asleep.

Her dreams had become less erratic since the move back to Paris. They'd pretty much stopped all together. But that night was the exception.

She jerked awake so suddenly that Raoul was also startled out of his doze.

"What's wrong Christine?" he asked her. 

Christine stared at him for a moment, then forced a smile. "Oh I'm sorry I disturbed you Raoul. I think I just need to get some fresh air. It is quite late, why don't you go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

"Alright my love. If you need anything you know where to find me." He kissed her tenderly on the forehead and headed towards his bedroom.

Christine watched him go and then made her way outside. Raoul watched her stand in front of the house, her arms wrapped around herself to guard against the chill breeze that was blowing. His face contorted with sadness. He knew she had had another nightmare, but respected that she wished to be alone. He turned away from the window and prepared for bed.

The next morning Raoul went downstairs for breakfast and was surprised to see that Christine was not there. She was always up before him. She enjoyed the mornings. But today she was nowhere to be found. 

He peeked into her room, but she was not there. Of course, she must have gone for a walk. She did enjoy such things and it was a lovely day he noticed, glancing around the brightly sunlit room.

He waited for her. But minutes soon turned to hours and he began to really get nervous. Perhaps she had gone to the opera again. Yes, that was it. She had gone to visit her friend Meg the other day, who's to say she hadn't done so again? He couldn't wait any longer so he decided to see for himself. 

He chose to walk. The opera house wasn't far and it really was a beautiful day. He strode briskly toward his destination. He opened the door and heard the sounds of rehearsal in the auditorium. He went inside. He spotted Meg Giry quite easily. She was talking animatedly to two other girls in the ballet. Christine was nowhere to be seen. 

He turned around and nearly ran into Madame Giry. "Oh pardon me Madame," he said, stepping aside to let her pass.

"Hello monsieur, what brings you to the opera?" she asked carefully.

"I was wondering if Christine had come to visit, I haven't seen her all morning."

"Well she hasn't been here, I'm sure of it. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to regain order. I left them for five minutes…" 

He watched her as she walked down the aisle towards the stage. All of the ballet girls immediately jumped up at the sight of her.

Raoul frowned. Where could she be?

Christine did not return home that day. Needless to say, by nightfall Raoul was out of his mind with worry. His suspicions about her whereabouts automatically fell to one person. And casting aside any fear he had ever had of that person, he left immediately for the opera house. 

~~~End Flashback~~~

Erik hurried toward his home. His fears that Raoul could find the entrance were confirmed when he found the door wide open. He sighed and hurried inside where he found Raoul frantically searching the house and still calling Christine's name. 

Erik wasn't angry exactly, more frustrated. He just wanted to be left alone and now this man, insane with panic, was upsetting his home. He walked calmly toward Raoul. The Vicomte was no a threat to him.

"Monsieur," Erik said icily and Raoul spun around with ferocity, a wild look in his eyes.

"Where is she?" he growled.

Apparently he did think that Erik had taken Christine. Erik responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Why sir, I know not who you mean. Now if you would be so kind, I must request that you cease this mad search of my home. You will find no one here."

Erik watched the Vicomte flush with fury. 

Erik was rather amused with his own reaction to Raoul being here. Surely Raoul should be dead by now. But he was strangely calm with the whole situation. It was somewhat amusing in a way, Raoul looking ready to kill while he stood surveying the scene.

"I'm not leaving without her," he said, obviously prepared to fight should need be. 

Erik sighed. He was getting rather annoyed with this young man who had so much daring as to actually defy him. He waited for his anger to kick in, but it didn't. He had not the strength to be angry. 

Erik was about to tell him that Christine was not here, as obviously he couldn't figure it out on his own, when he stopped. If Raoul was here searching for her…that meant that he did not know where she was. 

"What happened?" Erik asked, struggling not to show too much concern. It was difficult; he could feel fear for Christine prickling through his body.

"She's not here?" Raoul said slowly.

Erik smiled sarcastically, "Oh very good monsieur, that didn't take you long at all."

Raoul ran a hand through his hair as he came to grips with that fact. Then it seemed he realized where exactly he was and what exactly he had been doing. He too seemed to think that he should have been dead by this point. Yet he still stood, alive, in the home of the phantom himself.

Raoul gulped. "She's…she's missing. She's gone. I didn't know what happened. She seemed to just disappear. And with her tendency to run to the opera house…what was I supposed to think?" He said all of this very fast as if in an attempt to save his life.

Erik was amused to see the fear in the young man's eyes. But he had no time to dwell on it. Christine…Christine was missing? Where could she have gone? What if she was in danger? Erik was afraid himself. If anything happened to Christine…

His eyes suddenly flashed with such fury Raoul shrunk back a little. Apparently he thought the anger was directed at him. But it wasn't. It was towards Erik's unseen and unnamed enemy. Christine was gone. 

"Inform the police at once you fool!" Erik spat at Raoul. "Next time think logically before you do something foolish that you may still live to regret."

Raoul took this opportunity to run for it. He was shocked that he had been allowed to live. This was the second time he had barely escaped from this place with his life. But he did as Erik had instructed. He should have thought of that. But he hadn't. He had let his fear for Christine's safety consume him. 

The music came to an abrupt stop at rehearsal. Several girls screamed as a loud roar echoed through the entire opera house.

"He's here!"

A/N: Review :)


	7. Cernay

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while!! For some reason this chapter took me a long time to write…I have no clue why, lol. Anyway thank you to my reviewers!

This chapter starts out with some pointless little scenes with Erik, Raoul, and Meg so we can catch up with their feelings after Christine's disappearance.

Erik paced around his sitting room in absolute terror. He, Erik, was terrified. He had never felt so afraid, never. Christine had been kidnapped, or so the police said. They had proved to be no help whatsoever. They had searched high and low and found absolutely nothing. 

But Erik was terrified because he felt as if there was nothing he could do. Christine could be anywhere…absolutely anywhere. He felt so helpless. Christine, the only woman he had ever loved was in terrible danger, alone and frightened, and he could do nothing. 

He had barely been able to control himself these past few days. His anger had been so fierce he had been afraid that he wouldn't be able to handle it. If he had unleashed the anger he felt, all of Paris might have been dead.

Erik stopped pacing abruptly and sat down. But soon he was up again. He was racking his brain, trying to figure out what could be done. He desperately needed a plan. It frustrated him to no end that there was something that he could not figure out. He wouldn't stand for failure, especially not now.

Raoul had also taken to frustrated pacing in the last few days. He felt the same helplessness that Erik did. The police claimed to be doing everything that they could, yet had turned up nothing. People don't just disappear without a trace. Raoul was convinced that there was some clue, something that the police were simply overlooking.

He couldn't stand the ringing silence of the house. The house that had been filled with Christine's beautiful voice, just a short time ago. It had all happened so suddenly. They had moved back to Paris, their lives were getting back to normal, and then suddenly, their world had been turned upside down yet again.

Meg had not attended rehearsal for days. Her mother should have protested, but had not the heart to. Meg had taken Christine's disappearance so hard. She feared for her friend so much. She, like Raoul, was angry with the police. She accused them of not searching hard enough. There must be something! 

Her suspicions still lay with the opera ghost. Her mother had told her repeatedly that this had absolutely nothing to do with the phantom. Meg had tried to believe her, but still…she couldn't quite shake the feeling, that maybe, just maybe, she was down there. Surely he wouldn't do something so foolish as to take her again…but what if he had?

It scared her.

Meg went to her mother's office and tapped lightly on the door. 

"Come in," she said.

Meg stepped into the room and closed the door lightly behind her.

"Mother, about Christine…" she began. She knew her mother was so touchy about talking about the opera ghost, but she couldn't help it. "Have you plainly asked him? What if he knows where she is? He would tell you wouldn't he?" Meg's eyes looked up pleadingly into her mother's, praying that she would have an answer.

"Meg," Madame Giry said softly. "What you are feeling for Christine right now, is nothing compared to what he is."

Jean rode fast and hard towards Paris, grinning like a maniac. 

'Surely this will please him! Who knows what may come of this?' he mused to himself. He imagined himself second in command, and Claude…handing him an enormous sum of money.

He spurred his horse onward. Claude would be thrilled.

Erik wandered distractedly through the passages of the opera. There was no point in doing so really; he just couldn't stand the pacing any longer. At least now he could feel like he was going somewhere.

He stopped to see where he had ended up. He hadn't been paying any attention to which direction he had gone. He was near the grand escalier. He heard an unusual amount of noise and continued towards it. 

Erik looked through a small peephole and saw the people. He cursed himself for forgetting; there was a performance tonight! Of course! He watched as the finely dressed people went into the auditorium. They smiled and laughed together. Erik felt like killing the lot of them. Happy! How could they be happy? How can anyone be happy now?

He turned away seething. He had to get control of himself. When he was sure of that control he turned back, but didn't look, just listened.

Jean hurried toward the Paris opera. The man who had answered the door at Claude's home told him that Claude would be there. He should have waited for him as the man suggested, but Jean was impatient to see Claude's reaction.

He arrived not nearly as soon as he would have liked, and pushed through the now thinning crowd. He spotted Claude easily. He stood in a corner, surveying the crowd.

Jean ran up to him with an enormous grin spread across his face. Claude looked at him sharply, "What have you got to be so happy about?" he snapped.

Jean's smile did not falter a bit. "Well why wouldn't I be happy?" Jean asked, feigning innocence and digging for a specific reaction.

"Because!" Claude said, starting to get annoyed. "You know very well that Christine is missing! You know that I wanted…" Claude stopped and clenched his fists.

That was what Jean had wanted to hear. "What would you say…if I told you that I knew the exact location of Miss Christine Daae?"

Claude looked at him incredulously, "What are you talking about?"

Erik's senses pricked at the mention of Christine's name. These men were talking about her! He leaned forward and pressed his ear against the wall; so eager was he to hear more.

"What would you say…if I told you that I knew the exact location of Miss Christine Daae?"

Erik's heart skipped a beat. He was trembling now, willing the man to continue. But just as the other man began to speak and crowd of people walked passed, drowning out their voices. Erik pounded his fist against the wall in anger. But regained control. There was no point in causing a stir when there was more of the conversation to be heard.

"Fool!" he heard one of the men shout. This one seemed to be much more finely dressed. He had probably come to enjoy the opera.

The ragged man looked rather distressed at this. "I would have thought you'd be pleased Claude."

'So this man has a name,' Erik thought vaguely. But he had no time to dwell on that. They could very well reveal Christine's location at any moment.

"Pleased? You expect me to be pleased? How could you do something so foolish? And without my authorization!"

"We thought you would be thrilled about this Claude! You've been raving about that girl for over a month! Now you have her!"

Claude sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Well I guess it's too late to do anything now. What have you done with her?" Suddenly his eyes flashed and he grabbed the other man's shirt, pulling him close to his face. "Please Jean…you had better tell me she is not in Paris! The police are looking for her everywhere, you know that don't you?"

Jean carefully removed himself from Claude's grasp. "You may think me a fool Claude, but even I couldn't be that stupid," he said coldly.

"Where Jean?" Claude repeated.

"Lower Normandy, a place called Cernay."

Claude reflected on this. "Whom did you leave her with?" he demanded suddenly.

"Philippe," Jean answered promptly.

Claude seemed to let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God you left her with someone trustworthy! I was afraid you would say you had left her with Richard and you know how he is…"

Claude thought for a moment. "We're leaving. Let's go," and he started to the door with Jean in tow.

Erik stared in disbelief at their retreating backs. Christine had been kidnapped and her kidnappers were walking out the door untouched. This wasn't right. Erik felt so weak all of a sudden. He leaned against the wall and took several deep breaths to steady himself.

Then he hurried to find Madame Giry. 

She was backstage watching, as he knew she would be. He walked past her and dropped a note in her hands. It was addressed to the Vicomte de Chagny. Madame Giry stared at the note then hurried towards the door to deliver the message.

Raoul started at the knock on the door of his study.

"What is it?" he asked irritably.

The butler entered cautiously. "A thousand pardons Monsieur, but there is a woman at the door. She says that is urgent she speak with you."

Raoul sighed; he was in no mood to see anyone. "Send her in."

He stood to receive his guest. He did his best to smile as Madame Giry entered the room, but before he could greet her properly she spoke. "I was asked to give this to you Monsieur," she said and handed him the noted.

Raoul stared at it for a moment in recognition, then tore it open. He read quickly.

Monsieur- 

_I know where she is. Madame Giry will bring you to me._

"We'll leave at once," he said, not thinking about why this Erik would be requesting his assistance. He did not think about that. He could only think of Christine, and the fact that she could be safe fairly soon.

"My carriage is waiting outside," Madame Giry said and started towards the door. Soon they were speeding towards the opera house.

Erik was waiting for them in Christine's dressing room. It was set away from everything so they would have privacy. Erik was oddly calm. He walked slowly around the room, quietly fingering Christine's possessions.

But he didn't think about the significance of them. He was empty of emotion, he concentrated on one thing and one thing only, and that was rescuing Christine. No doubt there would be a death before this was accomplished. And that was exactly why he had to remain completely in control and empty of feelings. If he let rage carry him through this he could end up hurting innocent people as well, he could end up hurting Christine.

So he had emptied himself and set his mind on the task at hand. He had asked the vicomte to come with him. It really was only right to do so. The young man loved her and had the right to know what was going on. What would he say if Erik just delivered Christine to his doorstep? No doubt there would be a conflict. Besides…the vicomte could prove useful. Erik could easily handle it alone of course… Erik sighed. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea; it had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. But what was done, was done. He sat down on the small divan and waited for Raoul to make an appearance.

A/N: Haha, I'm forcing them to work together, lol. Please review!!! Thank you!!! :)


	8. Rescue

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

A/N: Thank you Riene and Soldier of Darkness for your reviews. I do appreciate it :)

Madame Giry knocked softly at the door of the old, unused dressing room. She opened it without waiting for an answer.

"I have brought him here monsieur," she told Erik.

Erik stood, "Well don't leave him standing out in the corridor."

Madame Giry motioned for Raoul to enter. 

"Where is she?" Raoul asked desperately as soon as he had entered. The last time he had said this to Erik, it had been a harsh demand. But now it was a plea. If Erik knew where Christine was then they must go after her immediately.

Erik turned to Madame Giry who looked as if she was staying for fear they would rip each other apart in her absence. "Thank you Madame Giry, we'll be fine from here. I trust you left the carriage outside as I instructed?"

"Of course monsieur." She turned to leave, but before she left she said, "Bring her back Erik."

As soon as she was gone, Erik spoke.

"She has been kidnapped," Erik said, wanting to cut to the chase as they had already lost so much time. "She's been taken to a place called Cernay, it's in Lower Normandy if I understand it correctly. Come, we must leave at once."

Erik left the room without another word and Raoul could do nothing but follow.

The carriage ride to Cernay was one of the most uncomfortable experiences either man had ever experienced. They were confined in a very small space with the one person they despised the most.

Raoul was nearly beside himself with panic in what they were setting out to do. 

_He must really love her, _Erik mused as he watched the poor young man across from him. He was nervous, yet so very determined to save Christine. It was rather gallant, even though Erik knew he would probably not be much help in this rescue.

Erik had known the vicomte would probably behave this way, which was why he was in such perfect control of himself. If he was not completely calm, then they would accomplish nothing. This time, Erik would not involve his emotions. He was going to kill these men, as he had killed countless others. He forced himself to concentrate on this; there was nothing more to this mission. 

Raoul took to asking the driver where they were almost every ten minutes. He really was behaving like an impatient child, but he could hardly be blamed for that. The driver, tired of the constant questions, began to tell them every time they entered a new town.

Raoul was constantly fidgeting, but Erik said nothing. He gazed out the window, watching the landscape change gradually. He centered all his focus on what they had to do. He knew that he could very easily be acting as Raoul was, but Erik wouldn't allow himself to act that way. 

"Monsieur," the driver called. "We will reach Cernay in approximately 15 minutes."

"What are we going to do?" Raoul asked.

"I trust you brought a weapon with you," Erik stated.

"Of course I did! I know you don't think highly of me, but I'm not that ignorant."

Erik smiled grimly, "No, you're not are you?"

Raoul did not respond. 

The carriage stopped on the edge of the town. There was a pub nearby, a dingy little place, most likely full of drunken men with nowhere else to go. 

Erik quickly got out of the carriage. Raoul made to follow, but Erik stopped him. 

"Wait here for a moment."

Raoul opened his mouth to protest, but shut it quickly. Erik must know what he was doing… Raoul sighed and leaned back into the seat of the carriage. He was beginning to feel utterly useless. 

Erik pulled his hat instinctively lower over his face as he entered the pub. Of course he doubted anyone would notice the mask at all. The light was very dim and he was quite certain that everyone inside would be quite drunk at this hour.

He was immediately accosted by two such men as he walked through the door.

"Well look at this, we've got a fine, classy man in here tonight, don't we Gerard?" the man said elbowing the man standing next to him.

"Dressed up like he's someone important." The man blinked and studied Erik closely. "He looks almost like Claude, don't he? All dressed up in a suit like that."

Erik stared at the man, Claude… This man may help him find this Claude. The way he had spoken had led Erik to believe that he must have an entire band of men working for him. 

"Do you know Claude?" Erik asked the man casually.

The man laughed then, "Know Claude? Of course I do! Who doesn't?"

"That's interesting," Erik said. "I was actually looking for him, do you know where I might find him?"

The man scratched his head, struggling to remember. "Claude has that house here, I don't know if he'd be there. But I guess he might be."

"And where is this house?" Erik asked, growing more impatient with this drunken fool by the second.

"It's right around the corner from here. You just turn right up that way," he said, gesturing vaguely. "It's a big, yellow house, you can't miss it."

Erik smiled. Oh what a fool this man was. He now had all the information he needed. He turned and left without another word.

He opened the door of the carriage and Raoul jumped up.

"Let's go," Erik said to him. "Tell the driver to wait here. Make sure to mention how much he's being paid for this service, we are putting him through an awful lot," Erik said, feigning concern. He just didn't want this man getting any ideas about leaving.

Erik and Raoul rounded the corner silently. The man in the pub was right, the house couldn't be missed. It was huge with enormous gardens surrounding it and a high iron gate. It looked rather out of place in this little town.

Raoul took out his pistol as they approached the house. It was mostly dark. There were just a few rooms lit up on the first floor. 

They reached the gate and Erik easily picked the lock. He pushed it open slowly, and luckily, it didn't make a sound. 

Erik motioned for Raoul to follow close behind him. Erik skirted around the outside of the garden. He was thankful for the many bushes and trees. It was very overgrown and seemed to be that way on purpose. As if the things that went on in that house needed to be hidden. 

Erik stopped and turned to Raoul. "We need to get into the house. Check all of the doors. I'm going to try to get in from the second floor." He pointed to the pistol in Raoul's hand. "Only fire it if it is absolutely necessary, it will alert them that we're here if they hear a shot fired."

Raoul nodded and set off towards the house. Erik circled around to the back. There was a window open on the second floor. Erik thought that rather arrogant; that they were so sure that no one would infiltrate the house without their knowledge. He was about to ascend the drainpipe when he heard a quiet click nearby.

"Don't move or I'll shoot," a gruff voice said behind him. Erik turned slowly as if in defeat. His lasso was out and the man was dead in seconds. 

Erik looked down at the body on the ground. Perhaps this would be even simpler than he had hoped. Of course, there was no way of knowing how many men were inside. Inside with Christine… He exhaled deeply to control his breathing. This was not the time to be thinking about what could be happening to Christine. He had to stay focused.

He slipped easily through the window. He made his way slowly through the house. His eyes seeing quite easily in the darkness he was so accustomed to.

A creak came from behind him and he instantly shrunk back into the shadows. He watched as a man passed him, gun in hand. There must be men crawling all over the house. He hoped Raoul possessed the intelligence to watch out for them and not get carried away with that pistol of his.

Erik saw a bright light at the end of the corridor he was in. He walked towards it and found himself on a fairly large landing at the top of a flight of stairs. The landing was open so the entire room below could be seen from where Erik stood.

Erik's blood boiled at the scene he saw. There was the man, Claude, who had been at the opera. And there was Christine. She looked so pale and frightened and Erik's entire being surged with anger. She was being held by the man Erik had seen Claude with. He was nearly a foot taller than Christine; she had no chance of fighting him.

Erik intended on killing them at once, until he was interrupted by a certain vicomte who had just surveyed the same scene.

Raoul was not like Erik. He couldn't control himself at a time like this. He burst into the room with his gun held in front of him.

"Release her at once!" he shouted.

Erik didn't move. He watched as the man who had held Christine let her go and reached for his own gun. Christine shrunk back and stared in shock at Raoul who had come to her rescue so unexpectedly.

Claude looked at Raoul with…amusement it seemed.

"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" he said, standing to address Raoul. 

Raoul stood firm. "I said release her!"

"Oh, but I can't just release her," Claude said casually. "Now that I have her, I'm not so sure I should be giving her away so easily."

Raoul seemed about to say something else when there was a loud crash. The room was plunged into darkness. Erik jumped off the landing and landed silently. 

There was another crash.

A shot was fired.

Followed by two more.

Christine screamed.

A/N: Please review :)


	9. Grief and Closed Doors

Disclaimer: Oh you know Rosie!

A/N: *cackles* oh I am soooo evil!!! Sorry guys, but I had to do it! I've had that cliffhanger planned since the day I started writing this story! Now before you all explode, you better read what happens!

And thank you to all of my enthusiastic reviewers! I was absolutely thrilled when I saw all of the reviews! Thank you so much. They really helped get this chapter up a lot faster! Thank you Trinity for your advice, hint hint, I like to be told what I've done wrong so I can attempt to not do it again. Not that I'm sure I'm talented enough to control my writing…lol, I just kind of sit down and write as things come to me, of course, that's not a very professional way to approach things…lol

Ok, I'll stop blabbing now! I know you're all waiting!

The house was completely engulfed in silence for several minutes.

Then there was the sound of a match being lit and a large orb of light appeared as a lantern was held high overhead.

The light shifted slowly around the room, inspecting the bodies, which lay lifeless on the hardwood floor. Two were in his immediate sight. One dead by bullet wound, the other had been strangled.

He searched the room frantically for Christine. He almost missed her, but spotted her at last. She was curled into the farthest corner of the room. Her face was buried in her knees and she seemed to tremble uncontrollably.

He quietly made his way across the room toward her. His foot brushed against something. A body. 

It was Raoul.

Erik abandoned Christine for a moment and bent down over Raoul's body. He felt no pulse. He was dead.

Erik bit his lip and looked up at Christine who hadn't moved from her position. He stood up and continued his way toward her.

"Christine?" he said gently.

She didn't move more than an inch. Her face buried a little deeper into her skirts and she hugged her knees a little tighter. But she didn't look up.

Erik wasn't sure what to do. He did not know how to comfort her. He reached his hand out and let his fingertips hover just above her shoulder. He wouldn't touch her. He wanted to, so badly. She seemed so in need of some human contact. But his touch could hardly be considered human…

She must have felt his fingers there because suddenly her hand shot out and knocked Erik's away roughly.

Erik's face pained at what she had done, but he had no time to dwell because just then there was the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Erik extinguished the lantern quickly.

"What happened down here?"

"You heard the shots! You know what happened!"

"Ouch! I just tripped over something, light a match or something will you?"

Erik watched a small glow appear on the opposite side of the room.

"My God!"

"What? What is it?"

"It's Claude! He's dead!" 

"Dead? But…Claude can't be…dead!"

"Look for yourself!"

"We better get the rest of the boys out of that damned pub! Come on!"

The door opened and closed again, and once again there was silence.

They were going to return with more men.

Erik knew he had to get Christine out of there immediately.

"Christine," he said urgently. "Please, please get up, we must get out of here."

Christine slowly raised her head and stared up at Erik. He could not read the expression on her face. Erik held out his hand to help her up, but she ignored it. Using the wall for support, she got to her feet on her own.

Erik once again held out her hand to help her through the darkness. She looked at his hand for a moment and then took it.

Erik pulled her gently through the house, careful to avoid the bodies…

He found the nearest exit and hurried to where they had left the carriage earlier. It was still there. Well, at least something had gone right that night. Erik hurried Christine toward it. He practically had to drag her, she didn't seem like she wanted to move.

He helped her quickly inside and was about to climb in himself, but stopped. He spotted a man sitting on the curb. He grabbed the man by his coat and pulled him to his feet.

"Do you know of the mansion down this street?" Erik demanded.

The man nodded, bewildered by the man who had disturbed them.

"Summon the police, get them there this instant." He dropped one hundred francs into the man's hand. "Run!" Erik told him.

The man stared at the money in his hand and took off running.

Then Erik swung into the carriage and instructed their return to Paris.

Christine was huddled as far over as the seat would allow. Her head leaned against the glass as she gazed blankly out the window.

Erik didn't speak. He could see her grief and he allowed her to have this time to think. She didn't need conversation.

Not that he was ready to engage in one. He knew that it was his fault that Raoul was dead. He could have easily rescued Christine without him. He didn't know what he was thinking when he sent that note…

And now Raoul was dead and Christine…he had hurt Christine. The last thing Erik had ever wanted to do was cause Christine pain, and now he had. 

He took to gazing out the window as well. Looking, but not really seeing, his mind was elsewhere. What would become of Christine?

The natural thing to do seemed to be to take her to his home. He couldn't very well leave her alone in this state…

It seemed like a relatively short time when they reached Paris. The carriage stopped in the Rue Scribe as had been previously arranged.

Erik looked at Christine questioningly. But she said nothing; she didn't even look at him. She moved as if to prepare to leave the carriage so he took this as consent to where he was planning to take her.

He stepped out of the carriage and handed the driver a leather purse that contained more money than the driver had probably ever seen in his life.

Erik then went back to the door and helped Christine out. She did not let go of his hand as they walked towards the entrance. 

Erik removed the key from his pocket and opened the gate. He made to go through, but Christine was stopped. She was gazing off into the sky where the first rays of sunlight were starting to emerge.

Erik pulled her gently and she followed him to his home.

Once inside the house, Christine went to her room and quietly closed the door.

Erik gazed helplessly at the closed door. He wished there was something he could do for her. But he wasn't exactly an expert on women. He did not know what he could do, so he decided to just let her be. She would come out when she was ready to.

Erik awoke very stiff the next morning. He had fallen asleep in front of the fire in the sitting room. He got up and stretched his aching muscles and as he twisted, the door to Christine's room came into view.

He stared at it a moment. It was an odd feeling that Christine was in this house, in her room at that very moment. Even if the circumstances weren't exactly ideal.

He glanced at the clock and was shocked at the time. It was a little after noon. But, he realized, they hadn't arrived back at the house until dawn.

Erik went to his room and changed into fresh clothes, the ones he was wearing being quite wrinkled. He thought about lunch, but wasn't even remotely hungry. But Christine might be.

He approached her room slowly with a small tray in hand. He knocked softly at the door, but received no response. He decided she was not ready to come out and left the tray at the door. He wandered into the music room and began to play lightly at the piano.

He was so distracted by his thoughts that he failed to notice Christine slip quietly into the room. She walked tentatively toward him, she reached out to touch his shoulder, but stopped herself. It would startle him too much she decided.

"Erik?" she whispered.

Erik was startled to hear her behind him, but didn't show it. 

He stood up. "Good afternoon."

Christine's eyes were red from crying, but she was relatively composed.

Erik could almost feel her grief and it hurt him so much to see such sadness in her eyes.

There was an awkward silence and Erik struggled to find something to say.

"Are…are you alright Christine?"

At this Christine shook her head and completely without warning flung herself into Erik's arms.

Erik stared down at her in shock. 

She felt his body tense, but she only held on to him tighter.

"Please Erik, I know this frightens you, but…I need someone right now," she whispered.

After several very tense moments, his body relaxed. One of his hands raised and smoothed her dark curls. Gradually he brought his arms around her and she clung to him, desperately seeking comfort.

It seemed to Erik they stood like that for hours, while in reality it was a matter of minutes.

Reluctantly it seemed, Christine pulled away from him at last.

"It will be alright Christine," Erik said.

"No Erik, it won't," Christine stated resignedly. Then she turned and left the room.

Erik sighed and sunk into a chair. He could still feel the warmth from Christine's body. Her body, which had just been pressed up against his… And that's when he realized that there was a small part of him that was almost…glad that Raoul was gone. Maybe…now…

Erik covered his face with his hand in shame. How dare he have such thoughts when Christine was filled with such grief! How dare he! He clenched his teeth. He would not be happy that the vicomte was dead, he wouldn't. He would mourn with Christine.

Erik walked back into the sitting room and was surprised to find Christine curled up on the couch. He had expected her to go back behind the closed door of her room. 

She didn't look up as he entered and lowered himself into the large armchair.

They sat there in silence. Christine gazed into the fire blankly, while Erik gazed at her. He felt her sadness as a physical pain. He wanted desperately for her to stop hurting. But knew that only time could heal this pain.

Both Erik and Christine remained locked in their own thoughts for a long time. When the clock on the mantle struck six, Christine stood up and went back to her room. Erik watched her back retreating away from him.

As the door closed, Erik's sadness was replaced by anger. Even in death the Vicomte de Chagny managed to ruin them.

Christine did not come out of her room the next day. Erik took this opportunity to find out what had happened in Cernay after he and Christine departed.

Erik went in search of Madame Giry. He found her in one of the dance studios, drilling her ballet rats. Erik circled back out of the room and went to the door. He knocked on it sharply before ducking back into the passage.

Madame Giry opened the door angrily, obviously wondering who would dare to interrupt one of her dance rehearsals. She was abruptly pulled into the passage.

Madame Giry pulled away from his grasp, "Oh God, is she safe Erik? Is she all right? she demanded, forgetting to address him formally in her anxiety.

 "She is quite safe," Erik assured her.

Madame Giry gasped then, "You've brought her underground, haven't you?" 

"Well I couldn't just leave her by herself! You heard what happened I trust…"

"Of course I did! It's all over the newspapers. Is she all right Erik?" she said with concern.

"No," Erik said simply. "What happened? Did it give any details?"

"Few, but some. The police arrived at the house…"

Erik smiled inwardly at this. Thank goodness he had found someone trustworthy in his haste to summon the police and hurry Christine to safety.

"…they found the bodies and several other men attempting to drag them away. Most of them were arrested, a few may have escaped, they aren't sure. Luckily, the Vicomte de Chagny's body was recognized. I believe they said it was claimed by his sisters. I have the article if you wish to have it."

"Yes, that would be most appreciated," Erik said.

"Very well, now if you will excuse me Monsieur, I must be getting back to the ballet rats before they become wild. I will leave the newspaper in Box five."

"Thank you Madame," Erik said.

Erik retrieved the article later that day and now sat in the sitting room pouring over it. The details were just as Madame Giry said. There wasn't much else to the article. There was some information on Claude; apparently he had been running quite the crime spree… Then Erik spotted something that caught his attention. At the very end of the article, the date of Raoul's funeral.

Erik glanced up at Christine's perpetually closed door. She had to know. She had the right to go to the funeral and mourn in a proper way with other people who loved him.

He carefully tore off the last sentence and knocked on Christine's door. Surprisingly, she opened it. Erik handed her the piece of paper and she read quickly, her hand trembling slightly.

"Thank you," she managed to say and then disappeared back behind that door.

Erik had half a mind to tear it down.

A/N: That damn door!! It's starting to piss me off now! Ok, next chapter Christine's definitely coming out of there, lol. Yes, I have always been a big believer in a strong Erik/Madame Giry relationship, I love that. 

Please review!!! All comments are extremely welcome! :)


	10. Stay by my side

Disclaimer: Still not mine. One scene invented by Susan Kay, I just stole it and changed it for my own purposes because I can.

A/N: I'm feeling compelled to really talk to you guys this chapter for some reason and hence a little shoutout to each of my reviewers of the last chapter! (Amazing I had so many reviews when everyone wanted to complain about that evil cliffhanger…lol)

Riene: Thank you so much for reading this story, your comments mean a lot to me. God, after reading yours im ashamed of this story, lol!! But anyway…look for angry Erik in this chapter! But please, try to contain yourself, lol

L.M.: Thank you for your enthusiasm and your kind words *blushes* hehe

Midasgirl: Thank you very much for your compliments! It means a lot to me coming from you who I consider to be a totally awesome phic writer that I really look up to! 

Soldier of Darkness: Thank you so much for your continued support! You've been with me since chapter 1 and I really appreciate it!!

Why I felt like doing that, I don't know, but now that I'm done, on to the story!!

The day of Raoul's funeral came quickly. Christine showed no sign that she would be going as she and Erik ate breakfast in silence that morning. Erik had taken to dining with Christine because she seemed more inclined to eat when he did so with her. He was glad to see her eating again.

After they were finished, Christine stood to clear the dishes. Erik would have done it himself, but Christine seemed to need to keep busy sometimes to take her mind off of other things.

Christine retired to her room and Erik to his study. At around noon, Erik stood and walked to Christine's room to ask if she was hungry.

He knocked quietly on the door. "Christine?"

When he received no answer he frowned. She had seemed to be doing better this last week. Surely she wouldn't go back to ignoring him like this again.

He knocked again persistently. Again there was no response. Slowly he reached for the knob and cracked the door open ever so slightly. "Christine?" he called again.

He pushed the door open completely. She was gone. She had gone to the funeral after all.

Erik closed the door silently and sunk into a chair in dismay. She had left, and he was certain she would not come back. She hadn't even said goodbye…

Erik stood up angrily, _Well what were you expecting Erik? Did you expect her to forget that boy and come running back to you?  Ha! What a foolish fantasy. She will never love you, you know that!_

"I know that!" he shouted, simultaneously seizing a chair and hurling it across the room. 

It crashed into the wall with a terrific crack and fell to the floor in pieces. The sound echoed for several seconds before silence reigned again. But Erik wouldn't be drowned by the silence. The table that had sat next to the chair suffered the same fate, as did the footstool and several pieces of china left over from tea earlier that morning. Soon the house was filled with the sounds of impact, wood splitting and glass breaking. Erik spun around wildly, his eyes flashing, searching for something else; he couldn't let the noise stop. He wouldn't be left alone in silence. He grasped an ornate crystal vase which quickly smashed against the opposing wall. And then Erik stopped. He walked slowly to where the remains of the vase lay and knelt down beside them. He picked up the largest piece, fingering the cool glass. That vase had once stood in his mother's house. At the thought of his mother his blind rage returned and his fists clenched, but he forced himself to calm down. As he uncurled his fingers, the now crushed glass fell to the floor. He stared at the blood that ran from his hand with a mild curiosity. He hadn't even felt it cut him. 

He stood then, his bleeding hand outstretched slightly in front of him. He surveyed the destruction he had caused and then began to pick up the pieces. Chair and table legs, broken glass, cracked sconces. He paused at one point because the blood from his hand was beginning to soil some of the items. He wiped his hand carelessly on his shirt and continued. 

The rest of the day was spent repairing every item he had broken. He did not think of Christine once. He dedicated every ounce of strength he had to his tasks, never letting his mind wander. 

By the time he had finished it was very late. The room looked almost as it had before, some damage was more obvious then others, and an end table and the china had been beyond repair. He hadn't fixed the vase. He had put the pieces away in a box, which had been put in a drawer in his room, most likely to never be opened again.

He stirred the fire, which had been slowly dying over the course of the day and added a few logs. He slumped onto the couch, watching the flames dance. He raised his left hand and examined it. It was covered in dry blood and still seemed to be emitting a small trickle of crimson liquid. In the firelight he caught glimpses of glass embedded in his hand. But he hardly cared. He had nothing to occupy himself with anymore and Christine came flooding back into his mind.

He stood up abruptly at the sound of the door being opened. His breath caught painfully in his chest and he waited and listened. He heard the door close quietly. Soft footsteps came closer and closer. And then he saw her standing there in the doorway. 

She frowned at the sight of him. "Are you alright Erik?" she asked with concern.

Erik couldn't say anything. She had come back, she hadn't left. She'd come back here on her own, willingly. What did that mean?

Christine walked closer to him. "Erik?" she questioned.

"Christine…I…" he faltered. She was back in his house; she had come back on her own, willingly.

Willingly.

"I thought you had left," he said softly.

"The funeral was today Erik, you knew that," she said.

Before he had a chance to say anything else she gasped, "Erik you're bleeding!"

She hurried to him and grabbed his wrist to allow herself to examine his hand. Erik was too shocked already to find Christine back in the house, that it hardly registered that she was touching him now.

"Erik, what happened? There's glass in your hand," she took his other wrist and led him to the couch where she sat him down. "Wait here a moment."

Erik watched as she left the room. He looked down at his hand that seemed to be causing such a fuss. It was nothing really.

Christine returned shortly with an old shirt of his, a wet cloth, and a pair of tweezers.

Kneeling at Erik's feet, she meticulously began to pick the glass out of his hand. Erik watched as she withdrew the deeply embedded shards from his palm. Her small hand held his wrist to keep his hand steady. She touched him with such warm familiarity, it seemed she didn't even notice she was doing anything unusual. But Erik noticed. He noticed the warmth of her fingertips and every small move she made. 

He watched as she moved and realized that this had happened to him before.

She looked up at him then, searching his face, "Am I hurting you?" she asked.

Erik just shook his head, he couldn't seem to speak.

Abandoning the tweezers, she washed his hand with the cloth and revealed the numerous large cuts he had given himself. 

She held up the shirt, "I found this in a ball in your room, I trust you don't wear it anymore?" she questioned.

Erik again could only shake his head in response.

"Good," she said and tore it into strips. She carefully bandaged his hand and stood up. "There. Now you really should be more careful Erik."

The shock of her being in the house began to wear off and Erik became curious as to the way Christine was acting. Only this morning she had seemed to be drowning in despair and now she was talking away and acting like nothing was wrong in the world.

She watched as his eyes searched her face for something, she did not know what.

"Is everything alright Erik?" she asked with concern.

"I thought you had left," he said, shifting his gaze so he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Left? Erik, I would never leave you, I'm sorry I didn't say anything before I left, but I wasn't sure if you would want me to go… I'm sorry," she said casting her eyes downward.

He didn't say anything. Christine looked up at him, but he did not look at her. With a small sigh she went to her room.

Erik gazed straight ahead, her words ringing in his ears. _I would never leave you._ He knew that she did not mean it the way she had said it, but… He sighed and pushed the thought out of his mind. She had come back and that was all that mattered now. He sat back and pondered her abrupt change of mood.

Christine's change of attitude did not last long. Erik should have known better than to think she was over Raoul's death already, it had been less than a week. And not only had her fiancée died, but she had been put through a horrible ordeal. Erik realized that when he really thought about it. He had so easily looked past Christine's kidnapping; it was overshadowed by Raoul's death. But now he realized that she must still harbor such horrible memories of it, even if she was safe now. Erik felt such rousing anger from the thought of Christine being abducted that he never thought about it much, for fear he would go on another rampage and commence to break everything in the house and possibly be a danger to those above the ground.

A/N: Sorry its short and it ends kind of abruptly, but I didn't want to get into the next thing until the next chapter, so see you then! And please review!! I know for a fact that there are people reading this story that aren't reviewing! If you are one of them, it will only take a second and it just brightens my day and helps my writing along! Thanks guys! :)


	11. Touch Me

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, that means I stole it.

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed, I appreciate it so much :) Um…I think that's it! On with the story.

Christine walked slowly down the corridor that would lead her to Meg's dressing room. She ran her hand lazily along the wall as she went, feeling her fingers drift up and down as they ran over the edges of the dark wood paneling. 

Meg knew that she was all right. Her mother had told her, but had insisted that she not inquire about Christine further or attempt to contact her until Christine was ready.

She was ready now. At least she hoped so. In a way, she was happy she was finally going, she desperately needed someone to talk to…but how could Meg possibly understand?

Christine felt her feet hit hardwood as the carpet in the main hallway ended. She turned right and stopped in front of Meg's door. Christine knew she would be inside, rehearsal had just ended, she'd been listening through the hollow ducts underground.

She raised her hand tentatively, her fist rose to the door. She paused, then shook herself slightly. This was just Meg! There was no reason to be afraid. She pulled her hand back and knocked on the door, slightly harder than she had intended in her anxiety. 

She dropped her hand and waited impatiently, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She heard the patter of Meg's footsteps and the door opened. 

Meg's face split into an enormous smile. "Christine!" she cried as she flung herself onto her friend's neck in relief. "Oh Christine, are you alright? Oh Christine!"

She pulled away and realized that they were standing in the doorway, "Oh, I'm sorry, in all this excitement…come in!" Meg didn't wait for her to enter, she grabbed her hands and dragged her inside and sat her down on the divan.

"Christine…" she began but stopped abruptly at the look on Christine's face. "Christine, what is it? What's wrong?"

Christine was trembling and looked about to burst into tears at any moment.

"Meg, I'm sorry, I…I need someone I can talk to right now." She laughed then, but there was no joy in the sound. "But now that I'm here I don't know if I'll be able to say it…"

"It's all right Christine. You know I will always be here, if you don't want to discuss this now…"

"No," Christine said softly. "I came here to talk to you and I plan to."

"Oh Christine, I'm so sorry about Raoul," Meg said putting her arm around Christine.

"Thank you Meg," she whispered. "But…oh Meg it was horrible," Christine buried her face in her hands and leaned on Meg's shoulders.

Meg hugged her friend's small form against her own rocking her gently, "It's all right Christine, you're safe now."

Madame Giry strode quickly down the corridor. She had told Meg to meet her in her office nearly forty-five minutes ago and she hadn't shown up. She hurried to Meg's dressing room, angry about their delayed trip home.

She knocked loudly on the door with her stick. "Meg, are you in there?" she asked harshly.

She was about to open the door, but the knob began to turn and Christine came bursting out, she avoided Madame Giry's eyes and did not stop for a moment. She ran quickly around a corner and was gone. Madame Giry stared in the direction she had disappeared wondering what on earth that was about. 

She stepped into Meg's room, and immediately knew something was wrong. Meg was shaking and her ashen face was streaked with tears. 

"What is it Meg?" she demanded gently.

But Meg could only shake her head, "Let's just go home mama," she whispered.

The next day found Madame Giry nearly running through the halls of the Paris Opera. She had turned off of the main corridor and was now running through a stone passage. She stopped one hundred steps from the last turn and pushed a latch, invisible to anyone who did not know of its presence. She stood back as the door swung open and stepped into the darkness. 

In her haste she had forgotten a lantern and she cursed herself for her stupidity. However, it didn't stop her, she ran her hand along the wall to guide her. She walked steadily and finally the passage opened up into a wider one. A short while later the underground lake came into view and she could finally see by the eerie light the lake seemed to reflect.

She ran her hand along the wall searchingly. Her fingers brushed the cord, which she grasped and pulled firmly. She sighed and leaned against the wall, the morning paper clutched in her fist.

Erik and Christine were in the sitting room, each reading separately and silently as they had taken to doing after lunch. At the sound of a bell going off Christine jumped, dropping her book in alarm. 

Erik looked up at his alarm system with a frown, but relaxed when he saw which bell was ringing. Christine looked at him, obviously afraid that someone was attempting to break into the house.

Erik stood to leave. "It's all right Christine. I'll be back in a moment."

Erik left the house quickly wondering what Madame Giry wanted. 

He stepped into the boat and rowed swiftly across the lake, approaching the east bank where he knew he would find Madame Giry waiting for him. 

He saw her before she saw him, his eyes being more adjusted to the darkness. She didn't even give him a chance to step out of the boat before she accosted him.

"Have you read today's paper?" she demanded.

Erik eyed her, "No, but apparently I should." 

"Look, just there," Madame Giry said, handing him the paper and indicating the article that needed his attention.

He skimmed over the first paragraph and looked back up to Madame Giry, "Why does this concern me?" he asked.

 "Do you not recognize the address?" Madame Giry asked.

Erik looked more carefully at the address she spoke of, and realized that he did recognize it, of course he did. 

Erik look up sharply, "When did this happen?"

"Last night," Madame Giry said.

Erik read the article thoroughly now. Christine's home had been broken into. The residence next door was quite close and the neighbors had heard noises from inside. They had summoned the police and one man had been caught. Apparently they were still questioning him and they believed it may have something to do with the de Chagny murder. 

Erik sighed and turned away from Madame Giry. "I had hoped that this would all be done with," he said quietly.

Madame Giry remained silent. Erik turned back to face her, "Is there anything else I can do for you Madame?"

Madame Giry opened her mouth, but shut it again quickly. She had wanted to inquire about Christine's welfare. After seeing her and Meg so shaken she wondered what was going on. Meg had refused to say anything saying she had promised Christine. But Erik had enough to worry about already without thinking about anything that may be wrong with Christine. And besides, if Christine had forced Meg to swear to keep it in confidence then Erik probably did not know.

"Nothing monsieur," Madame Giry said, "I will take my leave now."

"Thank you Madame Giry."

Erik quietly slipped back in the house, only to find Christine standing right inside the door. 

"Is everything alright?" she demanded.

Erik nodded, "Madame Giry wanted a word with me," he said, quickly forcing the newspaper to disappear beneath his cloak.

"Erik you knew that didn't you? Why did you leave me here worried that you were in danger?" 

Erik face softened a great deal, "I'm sorry that I worried you Christine, but you didn't need to be concerned about my welfare."

"Of course I was concerned Erik!" she said. She felt tears pricking at her eyes and saw Erik flinch as if it physically hurt him to see them. She wouldn't let them fall. "I'm sorry Erik, I guess it was silly."

Erik didn't know what to say. He couldn't imagine what had upset her so. Of course he had been all right. She seemed to care about him so… He raised his hand slowly as if to caress her cheek, but his fingers stopped an inch away and he was suddenly overcome by an intense longing to touch her. To really touch her cheek. 

She looked into his eyes, almost willing him to move his hand toward her just that much more. Erik would never give her any physical comfort, which she often desperately needed. She remembered his fear as she forced him into that embrace…

She saw his fingers begin to tremble; she saw his eyes, locked onto his hand, and the look of longing therein. 

She took a deep breath, then moved her head forward so his hand cupped her cheek. He looked up at her in shock, and she met his gaze steadily. For several moments he cradled her face and she closed her eyes to savor the sensation.

Suddenly Erik dropped his hand and walked quickly to the door to his room, which he slammed shut behind him.

Christine gazed after him as she let the tears finally fall from her eyes. She vowed to never shut out Erik from her room again, for now she knew how he must have felt.

A/N: Please review :)


	12. In Too Deep

Disclaimer: Oh you know Rosie!  
  


A/N: As always an enormous thank you to my reviewers! I know, you're getting impatient, but as you know, I like to take my sweet time when getting to things in the plot, lol. But yeah, I'm trying to do two things at once plus encounters between Erik and Christine, so yeah, don't worry, all will be explained soon enough. :)

Oh and for one particular scene in this chapter… I need you to think Phantom of the Opera with Charles Dance, you'll know what scene I'm talking about if you've seen the movie. That was my inspiration :)

~~About 2 weeks have passed since the last chapter. If you're confused as to the timeline, it's been about a month and a half since the day Christine disappeared.~~

Christine listened intently from outside the house on the lake to make sure Erik was still at the organ. She felt guilty about leaving, but she hadn't wanted to disturb him and she would be back. Hopefully he wouldn't even notice she was gone. When he sat down at the organ, he was known to play for hours and she wouldn't be gone that long.

She found a passage that Erik had spoken of before so if she ever had need to go to the upper floors of the opera she could do so without having to cross the lake. 

The passage started out as a straight, stone hallway, but ended at the foot of an incredibly long staircase. Christine climbed steadily, but began to tremble as she got closer to the top. There was a door as the staircase ended. She thought it a little strange; it was such an ordinary looking door. She turned the knob, stepped through and closed the door behind her. She stepped back and saw that from this side it appeared to be nothing but the wall. It was impossible to tell there was a door there at all.

She surveyed her surroundings; she was in a small foyer somewhere on the second floor. Precisely where she needed to be. She walked swiftly to Madame Giry's office and rapped on the door urgently.

The door opened and Madame Giry looked over Christine's shaking, pale form.

"May I speak to you a moment Madame?" Christine asked.

"Of course dear," Madame Giry said, stepping aside to let her into the room.

"Thank you."

Erik's fingers came down onto the keyboard in one last magnificent chord and the haunting music ceased. He stretched slightly and looked up at the clock. It was late, nearly time for supper. 

He stood up and walked out of his room, "Christine?" he called.

But he received no answer. Wild thoughts began to run through his head. Surely she hadn't left him again. She had said she would tell him if she had intended to leave! She promised! He rushed through the house and out the door. 

As soon as he stepped out of the house he spotted her and let out an enormous sigh of relief. Christine stood in the center of the dock outside of his home gazing across the lake.

"Christine?" 

She seemed not to hear him right away. She turned her head slowly and gazed at him over her shoulder with forlorn despair. Erik watched her curiously. She walked farther along the dock until she came to the very edge still gazing across the lake.

_Perhaps, she came out here to think and I should leave her alone,_ Erik thought.

He watched Christine for a moment longer, intending to go back inside when something happened that he didn't expect. Christine stepped right off of the dock and into the icy lake. 

"Christine!" Erik yelled. He ran to the dock and looked into the water. Christine was not struggling or attempting to save herself at all and she was sinking fast. The water was deep on this side of the lake, even close to shore. 

Without waiting a moment longer Erik dove into the lake after her. He pushed himself steadily downward. His arms extending, searching for Christine in the black depths. Finally his fingers brushed against her skirts, he found her waist and pulled her into his arms. He attempted to bring her back to the surface, but she began to fight him. 

Erik had no time to be gentle with her; he easily over powered her and dragged her to the surface.

He gasped as the air filled his lungs as his head came above water. Christine coughed and sputtered beside him. Erik began to swim back to shore, but Christine began to fight again. 

"Let go of me Erik!" she shouted, banging her fists against his chest. Erik stared at her a moment, her insanity was unnerving.

He grasped her tighter and swam toward shore.

"No!" she shouted, but it was no use. Erik had a firm grip on her and wasn't about to let her go. 

Soon they were able to stand quite easily and the fight resumed as Christine tried to push Erik away. Eventually he simply picked her up and carried her back to the house. She screamed for him to let her go.

At the door he put her down and she attempted to run back to the lake.

"Christine!" Erik shouted, grabbing her arm. He pulled her back to him and clasped his hands firmly on her shoulders. "Christine stop this! What are you doing?" he demanded harshly.

Christine didn't answer. She collapsed onto the ground sobbing uncontrollably.

Erik followed her down, his face creased with worry. "Christine?" he questioned softly.

He put his hand out as if to touch her shoulder, but she smacked it away. "Don't touch me!" she yelled. 

Erik recoiled quickly. His heart felt as if it had been torn in half at the sound of those words. The most hurtful words she could have said to him.

Christine stopped sobbing suddenly and realized with a start what she had just done. 

"Oh Erik… I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" she stopped another sob choking her.

Erik stood up shakily and nodded his head, "I know what you meant Christine," he said coldly. "We should get you inside. You're soaking wet."

"Erik…" she pleaded, willing him to forgive her. She hadn't meant to say that to him. She hadn't meant it. How could she say something like that?! She hadn't meant it!

Erik turned away from her, opened the door and gestured her inside.  

Christine held out her hand for him to help her up, but he only glared at her. She didn't want him to touch her, she had so, and now he wouldn't.

She stood up shakily on her own and walked into the house.

"Dammit!" he yelled, whirling on his companion. "He was drunk wasn't he?" 

The man did not respond which made him furious. "Wasn't he?" he shouted again.

The man seemed to find his voice then, "I…I didn't notice it sir."

"You've read the papers! This could ruin us! They're trying to connect this to the death of the vicomte! And unless I am much mistaken, Richard is likely to crack soon enough and betray us all!"

"I'm sorry sir…but…" the man paused as if working up the courage to say something that had been bothering him, "Wouldn't it be better to simply leave the Daae woman alone? I mean…the vicomte is dead, why do we need her as well?"

Jean's eyes flashed dangerously, "Because my revenge will not be complete until she is dead. What are you implying? That we should give up? Never."

"I'm sorry sir, it was just a suggestion." 

Jean waved his hand to dismiss him. The man scurried away quickly as if he feared that if he stayed a moment longer he would not leave alive.

Jean sighed and walked to the mantle, he braced himself against it as he gazed into the fire. "What a fool you were Claude."

Christine walked tentatively out of her room about an hour later. She was dry, changed into her nightgown and robe, and wrapped in a blanket. Erik was sitting in an armchair by the fire, but immediately stood when he heard the door of Christine's room close as she entered the sitting room. 

He walked towards his room, but Christine stood firmly, blocking the way to his room so he would have to step by her to get there. 

He stopped a foot away from her for a moment, but then continued, brushing by her, "Excuse me mademoiselle."

"Erik wait," Christine said catching Erik's arm. 

The expression that came over Erik's face was frightening, "You have requested that I not touch you mademoiselle, and I request that you return the favor."

Christine's eyes filled with tears at the coldness of his remark. "Oh Erik, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean… Oh God Erik!" she cried and flung herself into his arms sobbing wildly. 

His eyes widened as he caught her in the embrace for if he let go of her she would surely fall to the ground. She didn't seem able to support herself. 

He held her sobbing figure in his arms, praying desperately that she would stop crying. He couldn't bear to watch her cry and he felt so powerless to stop it. "Dear Christine, please…don't cry so, please Christine," he pleaded.

Christine calmed a little after that and as soon as he was sure she would be able to stand on her own Erik released her from the embrace.

"My dear, please tell me, what is it?" Erik said gently.

 Christine bit her lip nervously, seemingly contemplating what to do. But then she quickly shook her head. "I dare not Erik," she whispered.

Another sob escaped her and she ran to her room, but this time the door did not close all the way. It remained open just a crack. A ray of light shown through the door and into the dimly lit sitting room. Perhaps there was hope for them yet.

A/N: Please review :) Any helpful criticisms are most welcome :)


	13. Bridging the Gap

Disclaimer: Beware! Beware! Nathaniel Hawthorne is receiving credit! As much as I hate to subject Christine and Erik to the horror and torture that is _The Scarlet Letter_, I just couldn't resist this one scene…. It was too perfect! 

A/N: *shrieks with glee* Oh you guys have made me so happy! I'm thrilled that so many people are enjoying reading this!! 

LadyLupin and Phantom of the Fox: *cough cough* yup, we are all indeed thinking of the same scene from charles dance *cough cough* lol, :)

Riene: I love you! Thank you so much for your comments :)

Soldier of Darkness: My devoted reader, thanks so much

Fantome: Thank you for pointing out my errors, I have no knowledge of the language at all, lol. They will be fixed soon, hopefully. And thank you so much for your reviews! They totally made my day and inspired me to really get a move on with this chapter! And I'm glad you liked that susan kay reference! Hopefully everyone caught on because I just loved that. And Madame Giry is my fav character! Of course I wouldn't forget her! I'm obsessed with her and Erik's relationship! :)

Thank you to all my other reviewers, you guys rock my world: L.M., Phantomgurl33, Mel, Florence, and coolgirlgray!

Ok, enough bantering, let's get on with it. Warning: this chapter is completely devoted to E/C fluff, next chapter will be completely devoid of it so stock up now! lol :)

Erik did not sleep that night. There had to be some explanation to Christine's erratic behavior. Some reason… Of course she had been struggling terribly since Raoul's death, but somehow he didn't think that this would push Christine to harm herself. 

The next morning Christine did not come to breakfast and Erik was content to leave her alone for the time being. However, he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. Christine had been staying with him for quite awhile now…yet they were still so distant. They couldn't seem to bridge the communication gap and Erik was growing weary of it. 

After nearly ten minutes of picking at his food, in deep thought, he came to the conclusion that he wasn't hungry and cleared his plate from the table.

He wandered into the music room. He walked past the piano, brushing his fingers over the keys as he went, and over to the far side of the room. The back wall contained several massive bookshelves, each completely full of books, all of them organized carefully. He ran his fingers over the spines as he studied the titles. He wasn't sure he was in the mood to read, but something drew him to the books. He turned to his novels. Hugo, Dumas, Verne…Verne, he loved to read those novels, they were amazing. He scanned the titles. _Journey to the Centre of the Earth_,_ The Adventures of Captain Hatteras_, _From the Earth to the Moon…_ He continued to one of his prized possessions. A copy of _Five Weeks in a Balloon_. It had never been published, but had fallen into Erik's hands some years ago. Publishers claimed that it was too scientific. Erik didn't understand how they came to that conclusion.

He began to draw the book off of the shelf when he heard the door close behind him. He swung around to see Christine standing just inside the room.

"May I join you?" she inquired timidly.

"Of course," Erik said, gesturing towards the divan. "I was just selecting a book."

"Will…will you read to me Erik?" Christine asked.

"If you wish. You may choose a book if you like."

Christine walked over to him and pulled a book off the shelf. She handed it to him, then turned and seated herself on the divan.

Erik followed her, hesitated, then seated himself beside her.

He looked at her selection. _The Scarlet Letter._ He had only read it once before. It was an American novel that had sparked his interest, as did nearly every book in existence.

He opened the book and began to read. His voice turned the story into a beautiful song filled with the sounds of sadness, love, and betrayal. Christine could see it played out in front of her as Erik's voice wrapped her in a cocoon of warmth and joy. She forgot everything and concentrated on the beauty of it all.

She unconsciously moved closer to him as he read. Her head looking slightly over his shoulders to the pages of the book. His voice lifted her even higher and she grasped his arm. The song Erik created seemed to miss a beat, but just one as he continued on.

"_ 'Hester,' said he, 'I ask not wherefore, nor how,_ _thou has fallen into the pit, or say, rather, thou hast ascended to the pedestal of infamy on which I found thee. The reason is not far to seek. It was my folly, and thy weakness. I—a man of thought, the bookworm of great libraries—a man already in decay, having given my best years to feed the hungry dream of knowledge—what had I to do with youth and beauty like thine own! Misshapen from my birth-hour, how could I delude myself with the idea that intellectual gifts might veil physical deformity in a young girl's fantasy!'_ "

Erik felt his throat constricting as he read. He glanced at Christine who was enraptured. He stared at her hand, which rested on his arm, her fingers absently tracing intricate patterns on his sleeve.

She looked up after a moment when she realized he had stopped reading. She looked into his eyes and saw the sadness that had formed within. Without thinking she lifted her hand to his cheek. 

"Keep reading," she said softly.

He closed his eyes and released a deep breath as the warmth from Christine's fingers penetrated the mask. He tore his gaze away from her and looked back to the book, still savoring the feeling of her hand.

"_ 'Nay, from the moment when we came down the old church steps together, a married pair, I might have beheld the bale-fire of that scarlet letter blazing at the end of our path!'_

_'Thou knowest,' said Hester—for, depressed as she was, she could not endure this last quiet stab at the token of her shame—'thou knowest that I was frank with thee. I felt no love, nor feigned any.'_ "

Christine's grip on Erik's arm tightened slightly and he continued. 

" _'True,' replied he. 'It was my folly! I have said it. But, up to that epoch of my life, I had lived in vain. The world had been so cheerless! My heart was a habitation, large enough for many guests, but lonely and chill, and without a household fire. I longed to kindle one! It seemed not so wild a dream—old as I was, and sombre as I was, and misshapen as I was—that the simple bliss, which is scattered far and wide for all mankind to gather up, might yet be mine. And so, Hester, I drew thee into my heart, into its innermost chamber, and sought to warm thee by the warmth which thy presence made there!'_

_'I have greatly wronged thee,' murmured Hester._

_'We have wronged each other,' answered he. 'Mine was the first wrong, when I betrayed thy budding youth into a false and unnatural relation with my decay. Therefore, as a man who has not thought and philosophized in vain, I seek no vengeance, plot no evils against thee. Between thee and me, the scale hangs fairly balanced. But, Hester, the man lives who wronged us both.' _"

At this Christine stood abruptly, knocking the book in Erik's hands to fall to the floor. She walked a few paces away and hugged her arms across her chest with her back to Erik who remained on the divan. Perhaps that was enough reading for today. 

Erik stood slowly and saw Christine's shoulders shaking. 

"Christine?" he said gently.

She turned to face him, tears gliding gracefully from her eyes.

Erik paused and decided to take the chance. He brought his hand up and delicately brushed the tears from her cheeks. She shivered at his touch and he quickly dropped his hand and turned away.

"Erik," she said, stopping him.

He turned back to her.

"Why do you pull away from me so?" she asked quietly.

"You do not need to be subjected to my touch," he said evenly.

"Do I disgust you?" she whispered fearfully.

Erik's face contorted at her words. "Oh Christine, how could you say something like that?"

"Why do you pull away from me?" she repeated.

Erik hesitated, then ventured bravely. "You…want me…to touch you?"

"Please don't pull away from me Erik," she said as she stepped forward to close the gap between them.

Erik openly gaped at her, not knowing what to think, what to say, what to do. He watched as she reached out her hand for his. He wanted to return the gesture, to grasp her small hand in his own. She was inches away. All he had to do was lift his hand, just a little.

And he did. He felt his arm move slowly upward, it felt as if he had a string attached to it and a puppeteer was lifting it for him. His fingers touched hers. In an instant their hands clasped and Christine calmly led him to the divan where they sat down together. Christine curled her feet up onto the divan beside her and rested her head on Erik's shoulder.

He forced himself to breathe calmly. He concentrated on each breath. Within minutes he could feel his body relaxing and he relished in the contact between them. 

"I can't stand this silence between us anymore Erik," she whispered.

He sighed, knowing she did not mean their silence at this time. "I love you Christine," he said gently.

There was a pause. She longed to say that back to him. But she didn't dare, not now… "I know," she said.

He did not know how long they sat that way. Erik stared into the fire, wondering whether this was really happening. He sat in a daze, almost as if he were sleeping with his eyes open. He shook himself out of it when he heard the clock chime softly from the mantle. He looked down at Christine. She had fallen asleep. 

Erik released her fingers and brought his hand up to brush her hair away from her face, his fingers gently brushing her cheek as he did so. He paused. She was asleep, she wouldn't know, if he just… He stretched out his fingers and touched the cool, soft skin of his face; he caressed it softly for a moment, then quickly drew his hand away.

He slowly took her weight off of him so that he could stand, then lifted her easily into his arms and took her to her room. Erik laid her body gently on the bed, and then stood back to watch her for a moment. She was so beautiful. Her face relaxed and carefree in her sleep. Her rich brown curls spread over the pillow, encircling her face. She was an angel.

Erik crept quietly from the room and into the sitting room. He looked up at the clock. She would probably awake before nightfall, it was quite early. But for now she could sleep. He seated himself in his wingback chair by the fire to think about what had just happened, and to wait for Christine to awaken.

A/N: Sorry so short. Please review! I love all of your comments!! All helpful criticisms are most appreciated. :)

A/N again: Did you guys notice all that hardcore Jules Verne research I did??? Lol :P


	14. Bad guys: Exit stage right

A/N: Hey guys! To make up for the very long delay and the incredible shortness of the last chapter, I have made this one extra long. I don't especially like this chapter that much…but hey, those bad guys are going down, lol.

Thank you so much to all of my reviewers, I appreciate your kind words more than I can say.

Late in the afternoon, Christine emerged from her room. Erik stood immediately as she entered the sitting room and they stood in silence for a moment before Christine moved. She walked right up to Erik and laid her hand on his cheek for a moment before dropping her hand back to her side.

"Do you mind if we eat now Erik? I'm a little hungry," she said.

Erik shook himself slightly and forced a regular speech pattern past his lips, "Of course, you haven't eaten all day."

He started towards the kitchen, but was stopped in his tracks when a loud crash emitted from the room directly across from him. Christine let out a small scream of surprise while Erik strode quickly to where the sound had come from. He knew there was no one in the house. But someone was causing a disturbance somewhere.

He strode into the room and over to the wall where the hollow ducts he had installed throughout the opera came to an end. He listened carefully at each one. The auditorium, the managers' office, he stopped when he heard odd sounds emitting from one of the ducts. They were coming from Christine's dressing room. 

He let out a growl before he turned on his heel and strode out of the room. He nearly banged straight into Christine as he exited; she had been standing right in the doorway, watching him listen.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes fearful at the expression on Erik's face.

"It will be alright Christine, I'm going to see what has happened. You must stay here," he said brushing past her on his way to the door.

"But Erik…" she began.

He whirled around to face her, his eyes flashing wildly. "Stay here," he hissed. 

He immediately regretted speaking to her that way as she recoiled as if he had struck her. His face softened. "You're safe here Christine."

He walked out the door, leaving Christine standing very alone in the sitting room.

"Damn it!"

Marius flung open the door of Christine's dressing room and hurried inside. "What are you doing in here?"

"I tripped over this damn table," Richard answered, gesturing towards the vanity that had tipped over and crashed to the floor.

"Well hopefully no one heard that! How much noise can you possibly make?"

"It was an accident all right?" Richard exploded, rounding on his companion.

Marius held up his hands. "All right Richard. Let's not fight, let's just do this and get out of here."

"What are we looking for again?"

Marius sighed. "We're looking for something that could tell us where that girl has gone, a note, a letter, an address book….just something."

"Here, help me stand this up will you?"

Together, the two men righted the vanity. Richard began to dig through the drawers, while Marius moved to the wardrobe, checking the pockets of cloaks and dresses.

"Hey, what do you think this is?" Richard asked, pulling a book from the bottom right drawer.

Marius walked over to him and snatched the book out of his hand. He opened it and thumbed through a few pages.

"It seems to be her diary," he said after a moment. "Who knows? Perhaps she mentioned an acquaintance with whom she might be staying." He squinted at the pages for a moment. "Here Richard, come over here where there's more light."

The two men moved closer to one of the gas lamps on the wall opposite of the large mirror that graced the room. If they had stayed where they were, then they might have seen the mirror swing open and a masked man emerge from behind it.

Erik twisted his Punjab lasso between his fingers as he watched the men struggling to read Christine's diary. It would be so easy to kill them now, without them suspecting a thing, but it would be a most cowardly thing to do. To attack your enemy when they have their back turned. They had no chance either way, but it was only proper to give them a chance to defend themselves.

Erik's eye caught on something on Christine's vanity. It was a gun. How careless of them to just leave it lying around so.

"Excuse me," Erik said with barely controlled anger.

The two men spun around in surprised alarm and had barely enough time to register what was happening before Erik attacked. The lasso shot from his hand, landing neatly around Richard's neck. Erik gave a hard yank and the man fell to the ground, unconscious.

Marius watched his companion fall in frozen shock. He looked back to Erik with horror as the lasso went back to him. He reached towards his belt, then saw the gun on the vanity, several paces away. It was then he realized he had no chance.

The lasso shot out again, landing around Marius's neck this time. He struggled to loosen it, but it was no use. Erik moved towards him, one hand held the end of the lasso and the other pushed Marius up against the wall. He gave Marius just enough air to speak.

"Why are you here?" Erik demanded, his golden eyes flashing at the intruder.

Marius coughed and continued to pull on the rope around his neck.

"Who sent you here?" Erik said.

Marius continued to struggle, but managed to choke out, "Jean."

Jean… That name sounded very familiar to Erik. Then he realized where he knew it. He was one of the men involved in Christine's kidnap! But he had been killed. Erik had seen the bullet wound himself. But then he realized… He hadn't actually ascertained that he had died. How could he have been so stupid to assume that? But he had had Christine's welfare to worry about, checking for signs of life in a criminal hadn't exactly seemed more important at the time.

Erik's grip on the lasso grew tighter as he thought about that man still at large, and still after Christine! 

"Where?" he growled.

Marius sputtered and had just enough time to choke out an address before his oxygen was cut off completely and he slumped to the floor. Erik eyed the two unconscious men on the ground. They would awaken eventually, but he doubted they would remain in the opera house. Most likely they would run for it, they were cowards, helpless without a strong leader to protect them. And that's exactly who Erik was after.

Erik snatched up the pistols the two men had carried so they could be disposed of, leaving the men unarmed, then he strode briskly out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The force of the door caused the wood to split, but Erik hardly cared at this point. He had bigger things to do.

Christine stared at the door that had just closed behind Erik. There was something very wrong, she knew. He would have told her everything was all right if it was. But he had said no such thing.

She was afraid. Erik was gone and she was all alone. She knew that no one could ever get into Erik's house, but she would feel so much better if he was with her. What was he doing? Where had that crash come from?

Christine sank onto the divan next to her. What if…what if they were after her? A small cry escaped her mouth involuntarily. She quickly covered her mouth to muffle the sound. It echoed eerily off of the walls, reminding her of how very alone she was. 

She curled herself onto the divan, clutching her knees and praying that Erik would come back soon.

Erik flew from the opera in rage. He didn't bother hailing a carriage. The setting sun caused the buildings to cast enormous shadows that Erik had no trouble blending in with as he ran towards the address where Jean was meant to be.

He reached it in a fairly short amount of time considering that it was many blocks away from the opera house. Erik was surprised to see that it was a small flat. He was rather expecting another grand house. However, there was a balcony, he noted, looking upward. He scaled a drainpipe and landed gracefully on the balcony. 

He peered inside and saw a rather large sitting room. A fire was lit in the grate and a man sat in a chair facing it. Erik recognized the man, even in the dim light of the room. 

With one swift kick, the glass door shattered completely. Jean jumped up in surprise, swinging around in the direction of the door. There stood Erik, drawn up to his full height, his cloak swirling around him majestically. His eyes were full of

fire and hatred as he looked down on this man who had caused Christine such pain.

Jean gaped at the man who had burst into his sitting room so unexpectedly for a few moments before he managed to pull himself together.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Jean demanded. He quivered slightly at the look Erik shot him at these questions, but tried to remain as imposing as possible. Showing weakness in the presence of this man did not seem like the best thing to do.

Erik took a few steps forward and Jean took a few steps back, failing miserably to hold his ground. 

"You have no right to be here," Jean stuttered. "I have five men downstairs at my beck and call. You'll be killed if you stay." Jean gained confidence with each word, sure that this man would now leave.

But Jean shrunk down again as Erik began to laugh. He laughed in Jean's face, a cold, merciless laugh that told Jean quite clearly that he couldn't have been more wrong.

Erik continued to advance on him, until Jean was backed up against a wall. 

"What do you want from me?" Jean demanded. It was unnerving that the man never spoke. 

Then Erik did speak, his teeth clenched and he growled, "I want you to leave a certain Christine Daae in peace."

Jean paled slightly. That's what this was about? Christine Daae?

"Ch…Christine Daae? Monsieur, I don't know what you are talking about."

At this Erik could take no more. His hands shot out and he wrapped his long fingers around the other man's neck.

"I will kill you with my bare hands if that's what it takes," Erik growled. "What do you want with her?" he demanded.

Jean sputtered as Erik's grip tightened around his neck. Erik loosened it slightly so the man could speak.

"Please," Jean began, tugging at Erik's hands, but saw that Erik would not be moved by his pleas.

"What do you care anyway?" Jean said. He seemed to know that nothing would do him any good and seemed determined to go down fighting. "What good is she to you? One less whore in this city if I dispose of her!" Jean spat.

Erik's entire body shook with fury as his hands tightened and twisted. There was a loud crack as Jean's neck broke and he went crashing to the floor.

Suddenly there was a commotion on the stairs as the men Jean had spoken of came bounding up them.

As they entered the room, with their revolvers extended, they caught sight of an imperious man standing in the frame where the door to the balcony once was. He eyed them furiously, then spun around and jumped neatly off of the balcony. One of the men ran outside, and looked over the side, but saw nothing. At the same time, the other men discovered Jean's body.

Night had fallen as Erik prowled through the streets. He had never felt such rage in his life, not ever. He felt an incredible thirst to kill, something he hadn't felt in a long time. Jean wasn't enough. He looked around savagely, then suddenly stopped in his tracks as he realized what he was doing, he was looking for a victim.

He threw himself into an alley and slumped against the brick wall of a building, sliding all the way to the ground. He covered his face with his hands. No…he couldn't do this. He couldn't harm an innocent person simply because he felt like it. 

He noticed vaguely that his breathing was much too fast. He forced himself to sit there until his breathing was regulated and some of his anger had faded. 

When his bloodlust had for the most part subsided, he stood up and continued back to the opera house. He fervently hoped that no one crossed his path on the way.

Erik slipped into one of the hidden entrances to the Paris Opera and hurried through the passageways. It was Thursday, and that usually meant Madame Giry could be found in her office. He hoped today would be no different.

He entered the passage that went along the wall of her office and peered through the peephole he had carved. She was indeed inside, sitting at her desk.

"Madame Giry!" he called, a little more loudly than he had intended.

Madame Giry jumped at the sound of his voice. It had startled her and she could tell by his tone that something was very wrong.

She stood up anxiously. "Erik, is everything all right?"

Erik sighed; no everything was not all right. 

He continued more calmly, so as not to frighten her again. "Madame Giry, I need you to summon the police."

Erik rowed swiftly across the lake, trying to get back to Christine as quickly as possible. No doubt he had left her quite frightened. Of course, she had good reason to be.

He docked the boat as quickly as possible and practically ran back to the house. He burst inside the door, checking the sitting room first. It was empty. Erik ran through and into her room without knocking. She wasn't there.

He ran back out into the sitting room. "Christine!" 

"I'm here Erik."

Erik swung around and went limp with relief when he saw Christine emerge from the music room.

He sunk down onto the divan and put his head in his hands. Not seeing her immediately had thrown him into such a state of panic. He swallowed several times and forced himself to breathe.

He jumped as Christine laid her hand on his shoulder.

"Erik?" she whispered.

And now he had frightened her. 

"I'm sorry Christine," he said standing. "I was just…alarmed when I didn't see you.

"What happened Erik?" she asked carefully.

"It was nothing important, all that matters is that you're safe Christine," he answered, turning to go.

"No Erik!" Christine said suddenly. Erik swung back around to face her. She had her arms crossed and she was glaring at him.

"You will not just leave me here telling me it was nothing important! I know something is wrong! Now what happened?"

Erik looked at Christine in surprise at her outburst. But, he really couldn't keep this from her if she was determined to know.

"All right Christine," Erik said resignedly. He gestured for her to sit and she did so immediately. He seated himself beside her.

Erik told her everything that had happened, leaving out most of his encounter with Jean. All he told her was that Jean was dead.

"Madame Giry is summoning the police now," Erik concluded. "I suppose we will have to find out the rest from the morning paper won't we?"

He looked up from his hands and cast his gaze over Christine. She was very pale and her hand rested at her throat. Erik saw tears forming in her eyes. 

"Oh my dear, please, don't cry," he pleaded, reaching his hand up to her cheek, letting it linger an inch away from her skin.

She looked at him, but didn't seem to really see him. "Thank you for telling me," she said dazedly, then stood and retreated in the direction of her room.

Erik stood and watched her go. But suddenly she froze and her body began to rack with sobs.

Erik watched her helplessly. He stood and moved closer to her, how much he wanted to wrap her in his arms! But he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. 

Christine sensed his close proximity and turned to face him, her eyes swollen with tears. "What did I do Erik? Why is he after me?"

"You have done nothing Christine," Erik said softly, again letting his fingers trace the air next to her face. 

Christine's gazed moved to his fingers, then shifted to look into Erik's eyes, his eyes that were filled with nothing but longing. She tore her eyes away and took a few steps back.

"I'm sorry Erik," she said softly and then retreated to her room.

Erik's hand remained in the air where her cheek had been but a moment before. He stared at it for a moment before clenching it into a fist a slamming it against the wall with all of his strength. 

A/N: Please review! :)


	15. The Secret Comes Out

Disclaimer: Baddies are mine…not that I really want them…

A/N: Man, this whole thing with those damn bad guys has to go! If it all seems like it resolved too quickly with them…I agree and I apologize, but I simply can't wrestle with them anymore so they are going bye bye.

Thank you to my reviewers!! You guys have all made me so happy! 

L.M.: Come now, do you really think that Erik would let himself get caught? lol

Riene: :)

The following day Erik left Christine asleep in her room to fetch the newspaper from Madame Giry. It took him a very short amount of time as Madame Giry was waiting for him on the other side of the lake. She handed it to him without a word before she turned and left.

Erik returned to the house quickly. He opened the door and stepped inside silently. Christine was curled up on the divan in her robe with a book in her lap. 

"Christine?" Erik said.

Christine dropped her book and jumped up, swinging around to face Erik with fear in her eyes. Realization sunk in and the fear Erik was sure he saw faded quickly. She eyed the paper in his hand. Erik stepped forward and handed it to her. He then went into the kitchen to make tea. Perhaps she would prefer privacy to read this particular article.

Christine opened the paper with trembling fingers and found the article without too much difficulty.

_Culprits of the Chagny Murder Apprehended_

_Last night the police received information from an anonymous source concerning the location of the leader of the notorious gang, held responsible for the de Chagny murder and the kidnap of Christine Daae. The police surrounded the flat at once and found five men and the body of Jean Meyer.  _

_The five men found proved most helpful in releasing information to the police. Claude Myrtil, their leader for several years was killed the same night as the Vicomte de Chagny. Meyer was assumed dead as well, but survived and succeeded Myrtil. _

_            While Myrtil was in charge, it had been Meyer's plan that led to the Daae kidnapping. _

_            Police are relieved to have finally apprehended Meyer, the supposed bastard son of the late Comte Alexandre de Chagny, and believe that any other men supporting him will now fall apart without an apparent leader. Police also suspect that Meyer may have been criminally insane which will be investigated based on reports given by the five men in custody._

_            Raoul de Chagny is survived by his two sisters and his fiancée, Christine Daae, who is known to be at a safe location although her exact whereabouts are unknown._

A few minutes later, Erik returned to Christine. He found her staring straight ahead as the paper shook in her hands. Erik walked toward her, he didn't silence his footsteps so she would hear him coming and she wouldn't be startled. 

She said nothing. After a few moments she stood and calmly handed him the newspaper, then retreated to her room. 

Erik realized that he would eventually have to pry her out of there. She hadn't eaten anything for nearly two days. While he could go much longer without eating, it wasn't healthy for Christine.

Christine never mentioned the article and Erik certainly had no reason to bring it up if she did not want to discuss what had happened.

Erik hadn't wanted to think about it before, but something had seemed to come over Christine. She seemed different although he couldn't quite say how. She seemed…broken. Her eyes were full of shadows as if a black veil had descended upon them. She was so distant, even after all of this time. Erik had assumed she was still mourning the death of the vicomte, but when he thought about it, this seemed different. He remembered how she had looked after her father died and this wasn't it. He wished he knew what was wrong. He could hear her sobbing in her room late at night and it tore his heart apart to listen. He wanted to go to her, to relieve her sadness, but he was helpless, he had no way to comfort her.

He tried different methods of cheering her up. He would buy her new things, acquire many books that she might like, take her to see the operas in the evenings. Sometimes these things seemed to distract her from her pain…for awhile, but then the gloom would settle over her again and Erik would be forced to watch helplessly as the door to her room closed behind her.

At times this was infuriating to Erik, he couldn't understand what was tormenting her so. Sometimes he was on the brink of simply demanding her to tell him, but somehow knew that this would only upset her more.

She was like an animal during hunting season, always tense, always on her guard, startled by the smallest of noises. She jumped when Erik entered the room, she would stiffen in fear, then relax again after a moment. Erik simply couldn't understand this behavior and he didn't know how much longer he could stand watching his angel tormented so.

One day, a thought came to Erik. He would go to Madame Giry; maybe…maybe Christine had spoken to Meg. Of course she would have, Meg was her friend after all wasn't she? And surely Meg would speak to her mother…

Erik made his way to the rehearsal room where the corps de ballet practiced. Rehearsal was meant to end in approximately thirty minutes. It made no difference to Erik. He was content to wait patiently in the passage that followed the mirrors in the room and watch the dancers. Well, he assumed he was content in doing so, but at times he could hardly bear to watch as certain members of the ballet missed step after step. He vaguely wondered how Madame Giry could stand to watch it all day.

At last Madame Giry dismissed them and they hurried away quickly, eager to get out of there.

"In my opinion you should have kept them longer," Erik said lightly.

Madame Giry laughed at this. "Monsieur, you know as well as I do that it wouldn't do any good."

Erik stepped through a concealed door and into the room. He immediately felt uncomfortable. The size and brightness of the room made him feel extremely exposed even though he knew they were alone.

Madame Giry saw this and suggested, "Perhaps you would like to talk somewhere else?"

"If you wish," Erik said, feigning indifference.

"Then I shall be in my office presently," she said and turned, sighing inwardly at Erik's stubbornness to admit his discomfort. Why he felt such a need to guard his pride she did not know. She wouldn't have thought any less of him; of course he would find such a large, open space uncomfortable.

Madame Giry walked through the corridors calmly. She wondered why Erik needed to speak with her, but felt at ease, as Erik hadn't seemed agitated at all.

As she closed the door to her office behind her, Erik immediately appeared.

"Please, sit down monsieur," she said gesturing to a chair in front of her desk as she seated herself behind it.

"Madame Giry I must speak with you about Christine," Erik said, deciding it would be best to cut to the chase.

Madame Giry frowned slightly. "Is everything all right?" she asked carefully.

"No.," Erik said without hesitation. "I don't know what to do. Christine is so withdrawn from everything, there's something wrong with her. I know it, but…I can't quite say what it is."

Erik studied Madame Giry a moment then continued, "Please Madame, it's driving me mad. If you know what is wrong, please tell me."

Erik stopped abruptly as he realized he had been pleading with her. The Phantom of the Opera does not beg.

Madame Giry's gaze met Erik's eyes sadly. She could see the pain he was in. It hurt him so much to see Christine distraught and she knew that. This was not going to be easy…

"May I speak with her monsieur?" Madame Giry asked.

Erik looked at her, wondering why she had evaded his question. "Of course."

He led Madame Giry below the opera and to his home. She rarely entered his house, but it felt normal at the moment.

Erik operated the mechanism to the outer door and they entered.

Christine was in the sitting room, reading on the divan. She jumped as they entered the room. When she saw Madame Giry following Erik into the room her expression became confused then changed to a small degree of fear.

"Madame Giry…" Christine said. "What…what a pleasant surprise," she said standing to greet her.

Madame Giry nodded her head in acknowledgement, then turned to face Erik. "I wonder if we might have a moment alone monsieur."

Erik glanced at Christine briefly. "As you wish," he said. He walked through the room and into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. 

Madame Giry sat down on the divan next to Christine who had reseated herself. 

"Christine, child, I know how difficult this has been for you," Madame Giry began. She watched as Christine's gaze quickly became fixed on the floor. "I know, I do," she said gently, taking Christine's hands in hers. "But…you must tell him."

Christine's gaze flew back to Madame Giry, her eyes wide with horror. "Oh no, Madame, I can't! No, no, I can't, I can't," Christine ranted running her fingers through her hair.

"No, no, no," she repeated.

"Christine!" Madame Giry said, reclaiming her hands. "Christine listen to me. He must know. It's tearing him apart to see you like this, but if he knew…"

"If he knew he'd…" Christine stopped. She realized she had no idea what he would do.

"You have to tell him eventually, you know that as well as I. You can't honestly think you can hide it from him forever," Madame Giry said.

Christine stared at her, hopelessly trying to grasp something that just wasn't there. "I could…I could go away. Yes, I could leave and…" She stopped, took a deep breath and then began to speak. "No, I guess I can't can I? I couldn't do that to him, I couldn't do that to myself…"

Madame Giry watched sadly as Christine fought with herself for a decision, even though they both already knew what it would have to be.

Christine let out a long, shaky breath, turning away from Madame Giry she whispered, "All right."

Madame Giry stood and went to the door of Erik's room. She knocked, "Monsieur?"

The door opened and Erik appeared in the doorway.

"We need to discuss something with you," Madame Giry said softly.

Erik raised an eyebrow. Madame Giry was acting very strange and it involved Christine… Well, it seemed the mystery would be solved very soon so Erik allowed Madame Giry to lead him to the sitting area where he seated himself in his chair. The first thing he noticed was Christine's trembling form on the divan. She was so pale. His heart panged in his chest as he watched a tear roll down her cheek. Oh how he wished she wouldn't cry. He couldn't bear to watch her cry any longer.

Madame Giry seated herself next to Christine, putting her arm around her shaking shoulders. More tears cascaded down Christine's cheeks as Madame Giry began to speak.

"Erik…Christine needs to tell you something…something very important."

Erik frowned; this was not what he was expecting. Whatever had happened was obviously worse than he had feared. He remained silent, but shifted his gaze to Christine. She met his gaze, staring into his eyes, so full of concern for her. She began to shake more violently and looked to Madame Giry for help.

"It will be all right Christine," she said gently.

Christine swallowed hard. Her throat suddenly seemed unbelievably dry. Tears still flowed from her eyes as she struggled to speak. "I…I…" She turned to Madame Giry. "I can't," she whispered.

Erik felt the blood rushing through his veins as he watched Christine. He couldn't stand this.

"Will someone kindly tell me what is going on," he said, struggling to keep his voice from becoming angry. 

He wasn't really angry, but he felt he would burst at any moment with the suspense building and Christine beginning to sob on the divan.

"Please Madame," Christine begged. "I can't do this, please, tell him."

"I shouldn't do that Christine, this should be for you to tell," Madame Giry answered.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Erik burst out suddenly.

Christine fought to find courage to speak. She knew that Erik would not stand for much more of this nonsense. 

She took one long deep breath, then slowly released it. She felt slightly calmer, though her trembling hadn't ceased.

"Erik," she said, calling to him, pleading with him to somehow understand without the words being spoken. "I'm pregnant."

And with that she crumpled into Madame Giry's arms in horror that the words had actually emitted from her mouth. Soon her sobs once again filled the room.

Erik's mind froze. It had never taken a human being so long to process such a simple phrase. He couldn't seem to move his body for several moments. At last he came to understand what had just been said. He stood up abruptly, nearly upsetting the table in front of him as he did so. He stormed a few yards away from the two women keeping his back turned as this information sank in.

"I don't understand," he muttered, half to himself. "She didn't marry that boy and…" 

His body became numb, he couldn't move. He turned ever so slowly around to meet Madame Giry's eyes and she nodded, tears beginning to glisten in her eyes as well.

"No…" Erik said in a barely audible whisper. He understood suddenly exactly what this meant.

His eyes widened in horror as he looked at Christine, her face buried in Madame Giry's dress. It seemed as if time had slowed down. His reactions didn't come normally. There was a rushing sound in his ears. He looked at his hands, they had begun to tremble and soon his entire body shook with irrepressible fury.

He suddenly let out an inhuman cry of pure rage and flew out of the house with incredible speed.

Christine looked up as the door slammed, shaking the entire room. 

"Erik!" 

A/N: Well what do you think of that huh? Let me know! Please review! Oh and I promise much more angst…this will not be a story where Erik and Christine live in harmony and love and raise a kid, nope nope. 


	16. The Truth Hurts

A/N: Thank you for all of your reviews guys! They made me very happy indeed. All of you totally rock. It's so fun to read your reactions. :)

Soldier of Darkness: Rampage of Doom…yes I think that sums it up, lol, that amused me.

Diva Mama: That song better not get stuck in my head…lol

And now without too much further ado, onto the next chapter in which poor Erik suffers a complete emotional break down. I think he needs a hug.

Tell me if you like this chapter guys, I'm a little iffy about some parts of it, so I really want your opinions. Thanks :)

Erik could not see. He was blinded by the terrible hate that suddenly coursed through his veins. Shaking violently, he ran from his home. It was the only thing he could do, he couldn't stay there with Christine's sobs resounding off of the walls. He had to get out of there… 

He ran for the door that led to the Rue Scribe. It had never seemed so far away before. He suddenly felt as if he were drowning. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. He just knew he had to get out. 

The door was flung open and Erik stood gasping in the cool, night air. He lifted his hands in front of his eyes and watched them tremble in the moonlight. A hot wave of anger washed through him again, his hands clenched into fists and he threw his head back, letting a scream of agony escape his lips. 

He had felt anger, then despair, but now his fury was returning yet again. His fingers itched to cause someone pain…someone, anyone. Just so someone else would have to suffer this as well. He could almost see the blood on his hands.

He began to run, not exactly seeing where he was going. He made his way into the slums somehow. Here there were people, but he did not heed the curious gaze of the destitute at the sight of such a well-dressed man running through the streets. For once he was not concerned with the eyes of humans seeing him. They were homeless, unimportant; it didn't matter, not tonight.

His thoughts were so wild and his body so filled with rage that he ran straight into someone. Both parties staggered back. A girl of about fourteen years stared up into Erik's eyes.

"Pardon me sir," she said, lowering her eyes.

Erik did not see her. He did not see an innocent girl, dressed in rags, with no place to go. He saw a person like any other, a person who wasn't feeling enough pain. He looked at her with blind fury and with one swift motion; the girl was flung aside, landing with a thud against the brick of a building.

There was a shout behind him. Erik turned to see a man running in his direction, shouting to leave the girl alone. Erik smirked at the man coming towards him, overweight, but the persona of a weak man who didn't really want any trouble. He did not even seem to have a weapon. All the better, Erik thought.

"Get away from her!" the man shouted in an attempt to seem brave. 

He glared at Erik threateningly, but lost all of his bravado when Erik began to laugh, a cold, merciless laugh that ended as his lasso landed neatly around the man's neck. He pulled it slightly, and rapidly wrapped it around his arm, pulling the man to him. 

Erik glared at him furiously, "Do you know how easy it would be to kill you right now?" Erik growled as the man pulled futilely on the rope around his neck.

Erik heard more angry cries behind him. He could see three men running in his direction while shouts of "Summon the police!" seemed to echo all around him.

Erik looked back at the man in his clutches, then to the girl who lay a few feet away. He gazed in horror at what he had done. He released the man who fell to the ground gasping. Erik swung around to face the men who were getting very close. Erik promptly disappeared into the shadows of the night. He wound his way through a maze of back streets and alleys. 

He stopped when he was sure he was far enough away that they could not find him. He assessed his location. He was in an alley, quite far from the opera house, having fled in the opposite direction.

He leaned against a building, gasping for breath, trying to see through the hate that veiled his senses. He remembered why he was out in the streets at night; he remembered what had possessed him to attack those people.

Christine…

The horror of everything he had heard that night finally sunk in. His rage faded and he felt the agony of the truth of this situation. He couldn't stand to think of it, yet his mind was filled with only that. His Christine, his precious flower, had been…raped.

Another cry escaped his lips and he collapsed to the ground. He had known this, but hadn't put it to words until just now. His entire body shook and he made no attempt to control his emotions. Christine… She was so young, so innocent, how could this have happened?

He buried his face in his hands, tears streaming from his eyes, as he struggled to block the thought out of his mind. But it was no use. He couldn't hide from this. And Christine, oh God Christine… She had been all alone in this. How could he have been so blind? Why couldn't he have seen it? How broken she looked, the look of despair that never left her eyes.

Erik sat in that alley for a very long time. He knew he was being selfish, he knew that he should be with Christine. But he just couldn't be there right now. He couldn't. He couldn't face the awful reality of this, not yet. In the darkness and solitude he could pretend it was a dream. A terrible dream and that when he rose everything would be just fine.

Erik sank into a deep stupor, his mind gradually exhausted itself and he ceased to think, ceased to feel. It was only when he saw the rays of the sun, signifying the dawn, that he seemed to come to himself. Shaking his head slightly he remembered where he was, what had happened. His face itched behind the mask where his tears had dried on his cheeks. He cursed his weakness. He had run away, when Christine needed him the most. He hadn't known what else to do… He had felt so trapped. The only logical thing to do at the time was to run. He was disgusted with himself, he had to return.

He rose slowly, his limbs frozen and stiff, and gradually he made his way to the opera house, taking care to stay in the shadows.

As he went through the Rue Scribe entrance, his emotions slowly began to return. His mind had been numb, but now it seemed to be awakening. In what seemed no time at all, he was standing at the door of his house, wondering how his feet had managed to carry him there without him noticing.

He unlocked it, but stopped before pushing it open. He again felt the urge to run, but Christine couldn't run and neither could he.

After several deep breaths, he opened the door and silently walked inside.

Madame Giry was on the divan in the sitting room. She had been watching the door and stood up abruptly when he entered. She noticed immediately that he lacked his usual majestic air.

"Are you all right Erik?" Madame Giry asked carefully. 

He didn't answer; he walked over to his armchair and sank into it, facing away from her.

"Thank you for all you have done for her Madame," Erik said evenly. "Now I'm sure you have other things to do. I believe you know the way out."

Madame Giry stared sadly at the back of his chair, but did not disobey him. She turned to leave, stopping at the door.

"You know where I'll be," she said quietly, and exited.

Erik sighed and sank deeper into the chair, abandoning his posture completely.

A few moments later he heard a door open, and the soft sound of Christine's steps as she entered the room. She remained silent for several minutes, almost afraid to speak, afraid of what Erik would say, what he would do.

She swallowed hard. "Erik?" she whispered.

He stood and turned to face her. She was extremely pale, with deep shadows under her eyes, but composed for the most part. Erik felt himself tense as he gazed at her. He forced his anger into check; it would do no good now. 

Christine swallowed again, trying furiously to force the lump out of her throat. "Erik I…I will leave at once if that is your wish," she said softly, casting her gaze to the floor, refusing to look him in the eye.

Erik stared at her. Leave? The thought of forcing Christine to leave had not crossed his mind for a moment. He could not imagine why she thought that he would want her to leave… Surely she didn't think that he was angry with _her_…

"Christine…I do not wish you to leave." He paused then; fervently praying what he was about to say was the truth and not a presumptuous fantasy. "This is your home Christine."

Christine's eyes darted up to his, showing him the tears that swam within them. "I do not disgust you?" she whispered.

Erik felt a tug at his heart as she said this. How could she think that? It was then that Erik understood the magnitude of what had been done to her. She couldn't truly believe that he would find her repulsive.

"Oh Christine…" Erik said softly. "Come here my dear," he said, holding out his hand. 

Tears still glimmered in her eyes as she went to him and hesitantly took his hand.

"Christine, never say such things, you know that is not true, " he said gently.

She stared into his eyes, a glimmer of hope appearing in her own. "You wish me…to stay?" she asked slowly, trying to see what he was thinking.

Erik could not believe what she was saying. How could she ever doubt the way he felt about her. Nothing could ever change that. "Of course."

Christine let the tears that had been threatening her throughout their encounter fall at last. "Thank you Erik," she said.

They stood in silence for a moment before Christine stepped forward to enfold herself in Erik's protective arms.

Erik did not flinch as she did this, nor did he tense. This felt so right, to cradle her in his arms, to shield her from this terrible hand she had been dealt. He held onto her fiercely. Oh how badly he wanted to revenge what had been done to her, but the man who had caused all of this was already dead. Erik felt a certain remorse over this fact; he would have enjoyed killing him so much more if he had known.

Christine pulled away from him after a few moments, suddenly frightened again. "But Erik, what will we do?"

Erik paused, he did not know, all he knew was that he would not lose Christine over this. He avoided her question, feeling that the response of 'I don't know' wouldn't do any good. 

"It will be all right Christine," he said gently.

"Do you promise that?" she demanded softly.

Erik hesitated, he would never break a promise to her, and this was one he wasn't sure he would be able to keep. "I can't promise that Christine. But I do promise that no one will ever hurt you again. I will always be here to protect you."

He hesitated, but continued, the connection between them giving him strength. "I love you Christine."

She paused. 

"I know."

A/N: Ack! Fluff overload! lol

Sorry so short. Please Review! :)

Further Note: There will be a delay with the next chapter…my computer kind of caught fire last night…well not completely, but there was smoke and it was scary and I need to buy a new part for it, lol. So I apologize if your wait is a little longer than usual.


	17. You denied me

Disclaimer: Nope. These characters definitely don't belong to me.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait guys. It wasn't even entirely my computer's fault. My muse was refusing to cooperate earlier this week.

Guys…I loved your reviews sooo much. Thank you! They truly made me so happy.

There is no such thing as a fluff overload. There is no such thing as a fluff overload. There is no such…. lol, thanks Midasgirl

Diva Mama: E/C eventually, I did indeed REALLY mean it, lol.

And as requested by Midasgirl…more Madame Giry! hehe

Meg Giry sighed as she pulled off her ballet shoes. Her feet were unbelievably sore. Her mother had been harsher on the corps then usual it seemed. Meg had lost track of how long they had been forced to repeat that same routine, over and over… If she had to do it again she'd scream. But of course, she would have to, but at least for now she could complain in her head and no one would know.

She sat for a few moments, massaging her feet, when there was a knock at the door. With a sigh she rose. If that was her mother she would slam the door in her face! Meg laughed at this thought, she would never actually show such impertinence, but it was amusing to picture herself doing something like that.

There was another knock; obviously the person on the other side was very impatient. With a sinking feeling that it really would be her mother Meg hurried to the door to open it.

Meg let out a sigh of relief when she saw Christine standing in the doorway.

"Oh Christine, come in! I was afraid you were my mother, we just had the longest rehearsal…"

Christine cut her off, "I told him Meg."

Meg felt her stomach drop. "You…told him?" she repeated faintly.

Christine nodded in affirmation.

Meg shook herself; it was not a good time to go falling apart. "Oh Christine sit down. When did this happen? Oh what happened? What did he say?" She narrowed her eyes at her friend. "Did he hurt you?"

"Meg please, don't bombard me like this. But no, of course not. I've told you this before, he would never hurt me. I know you refuse to believe that…but it is true." Christine said.

"I'm sorry Christine, I do believe you, I just…worry about you sometimes. But Christine, what happened?"

"It was almost a week ago…" Christine began.

"A week ago? And you're just coming to tell me this now?" Meg asked indignantly.

"Oh please Meg, I came as soon as I could, do you want to hear this or not?"

Meg because silent instantly and Christine continued, "Erik came home that night, and your mother was with him."

Meg's eyes widened slightly at this, but she said nothing. She knew that her mother and this Erik were friends, but she had a difficult time imagining her mother in his lair…

"She told me that we had to tell him…Oh Meg, it was horrible. I had no choice, I knew I had to tell him, but…I wish I could have put it off longer. I'm a terrible coward Meg. I was so frightened! I had no way of knowing how he would react to this. So…I told him, I couldn't look at him after I said those words, I couldn't. Meg…I have never seen him so angry, never. It was terrifying. And then he left, he just left, I don't know where he went or what he did. I just pray that no one crossed his path that night." Christine finished.

She was trembling and Meg wrapped an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. "Are you all right Christine?" she asked softly.

Christine nodded, "I'll be all right. I suppose it is better that he knows…it was torture to hide it from him…but I was so afraid. I thought that he…that he would be repulsed by me. How could he stand to be near me ever again?" Christine felt tears welling up in her eyes and made no attempt to stop them. "That thought was what kept me from telling him…I couldn't bear to think of Erik unable to even look at me. But, he didn't send me away Meg. I was so certain that he could never love me after this. He always loved that I was so…" she choked on the words, but managed to continue. "so…innocent, he always said that, oh God Meg!" 

She fell into her friend's arms sobbing. Meg could do nothing but hold her until her cries subsided. She did not know what else she could do for Christine, it killed her to see her friend like this, but…she had no experience with anything like this.

"Oh Christine…it will work out in the end…" Meg said, trying desperately to ease Christine's sobs.

Christine sat up, trying to compose herself. "Perhaps…but we can't know that for sure."

She took a deep breath, her composure returning. "Do you know what he said Meg? He said that he loves me, he still loves me Meg! I couldn't see how he could possibly still care for me, but he does! Oh Meg, I would have died if he had sent me away."

"Christine, if he loves you as much as Mama says, I don't think anything could ever change that."

"I suppose you're right, but I didn't see that. I just had this horrible fear that this would just end everything. But even now, even though he still loves me…nothing will be the same after this, I know it," Christine sighed.

"Do you love him Christine?" Meg asked suddenly.

Christine sighed, "Meg, I've told you before, please don't ask me that."

"Why Christine? Why? That's all you ever say! Why can't you just answer me?"

"Meg…I can't answer that…" 

Meg stood angrily, "Why not Christine? Just now you said you would die without him! Isn't that love?" She turned away from Christine. "Do you not trust me?"

Christine stood and placed a hand on Meg's shoulder, turning her around. "Meg, stop this. You know that isn't true. I trust you with everything, you know that. It's just that…it's…complicated with Erik."

Meg sighed. "I'm sorry Christine. I know, I don't know what came over me… Please don't be angry with me."

"I could never be angry with you Meg… I promise, when I have an answer, you'll be the first to know," Christine said. 

Meg smiled then, "While I appreciate that remark…perhaps it would be best to let the man you love know first."

Christine laughed. "Yes, I think you may be right about that." 

Just then there was a loud knock on the door.

Meg sighed. "I knew she'd be coming after me."

She opened the door, then stood aside so her mother could come in.

"Are you ready to leave Meg? We have two hours until you must be back here for the performance tonight," she said at once, then noticed Christine. "Good evening Christine," she greeted.

Christine smiled weakly while Meg stared at her mother in disbelief. "You mean…I can go home? You're not bringing me back to rehearsal?"

Madame Giry tapped her foot impatiently, "You heard what I said, are you ready?"

Meg grinned, "Yes of course. I'm sorry Christine, but I must go. I will see you tomorrow?"

Christine smiled faintly, "Yes, that would be nice."

She couldn't help but notice the difference between her and Meg at that moment. Meg remained a happy child, but she, Christine, had been forced to grow up and she didn't know if she could bear it.

Meg led the way out of the room. As she turned the corner, Madame Giry caught Christine's arm gently to stop her.

"Are you all right Christine?" she asked seriously.

Christine nodded slowly. "I suppose so."

"How has he taken it?" she pressed.

"He's…I'm not sure. He's quiet. Sometimes he seems to think I'll break at the slightest touch," Christine said softly. "This has hurt him so much…" Her throat tightened painfully as she spoke. "And it's all my fault, I didn't mean to cause him more pain. Maybe I shouldn't have told him."

"Christine stop," Madame Giry said, placing a hand comfortingly on her arm. "Listen to me, this is not your fault, I don't ever want to hear you say that again. Erik was hurt, of course he was. You are the most precious thing in the world to him, but you mustn't blame yourself. If you plan to keep living with him, which I assume you do, he had to be told. You know that."

"Yes, I know…" Christine said resignedly.

"Now, I must go after Meg, who knows where she's gone off to by this time. Have a good night Christine."

"Yes…goodnight Madame Giry."

Christine returned to the house on the lake quickly. She knew that Erik didn't want her out of his sight for very long.

She unlocked the door and prepared to push it open when a wave of dizziness struck her. She closed her eyes and leaned against the door, waiting for it to pass. It went as quickly as it had come. She shook herself. _That was odd._

She pushed open the door and found Erik waiting for her just inside. He must have hated that she had left, but she had to see Meg. She hadn't been able to stand being in the house any longer. 

The last week had been difficult for both of them. It had been so uncomfortable. For Erik, to look at Christine and know what had been done to her. For Christine, to know that he knew. His anger had faded however. For that she was grateful. 

"How was your interview with Mademoiselle Giry?" Erik asked lightly. Personally he was rather impressed. A conversation with Meg that did not end in tears.

Christine smiled at him. "It was rather…pleasant," she finished. 

Erik smiled sadly, not really believing her. Christine stepped forward and laid a hand on his cheek. "I'm fine," she said softly.

With her hand on his face, she was much more aware of the mask than she usually was. She pulled it away.

"Well I'm going to go freshen up a bit before dinner, I will return shortly," she said and went into her room.

She closed the door quietly. She sighed and leaned against it. How she was growing to despise that mask. It was such a horrible barrier between them. Christine would have liked to ask him to remove it, but doing so would cause a great emotional upheaval that neither of them could handle at the moment.

Erik raised his fingers to his face where Christine's hand had been. He too had become more aware of the black mask that covered his face at that moment. How he longed to feel her touch on his bare skin. Her fingers, soft and warm. But it was a dream that could not be. He wouldn't subject her to the monstrosity that he had the gall to call a face. She didn't need that, now or ever.

He turned and sank into a chair wearily. The last week had dragged and had been an incredibly hard one. Sometimes he could hardly bear to look at Christine. His mind would wander and create horrid images that he would be forced to watch played over. He'd shut his eyes, cover his ear, try to block it out, but they were always there, penetrating his senses. It became unbearable.

Erik knew that it would hurt Christine to see how deeply it had affected him. She was the one who had to suffer through this wasn't she? 

He sighed. His anger had faded during the course of the week. The strong rancor he had felt was replaced with an incredible ache. He couldn't understand why something so terrible had to happen to Christine. 

Christine didn't deserve any of this. And Erik could barely find the courage to comfort her. He wanted to hold her in his arms, take away her pain. She wanted that too. He knew that. She had thrown herself into his arms many times. She wanted it too… But he was still hesitant.

Erik sat up abruptly as Christine's door closed behind her. He stood as she entered the room and was relieved that her eyes were dry. His heart couldn't handle her tears mingling with his tumultuous thoughts.

Erik took a deep breath; he needed to talk with her. He needed to ask her something that he had meant to ask her a long time ago…but something had always seemed to prevent it. Perhaps he was afraid of her answer.

"May I speak with you a moment Christine?" he said, holding out his hand.

Christine frowned at his tone, but took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the divan. They sat and Christine searched Erik's eyes, wondering what was the matter.

"What is it Erik?" she asked softly.

"Christine…why are you here?" 

Christine's brow creased in confusion. "What?"

Erik took another deep breath to calm his nerves. This was not a conversation he was comfortable having, but he couldn't bear not knowing what was to become of them any longer. He had to know what she was thinking, even if he had to pry it out of her.

"You've been here, living in my home for almost three months now Christine. And please don't look at me like that. I…well I shall speak frankly for a moment; I love having you here, so please, don't look as if I'm about to send you away. You are more than welcome here. But…you have chosen to stay Christine. Why? There is nothing to keep you here. You may leave whenever you wish."

Christine stared at her hands, refusing to look at him throughout this entire speech. The whole thing seemed so unlike Erik…and now he was going to force a response out of her; which meant she would have to sort out her feelings before he grew impatient and possibly angry.

"I know that…" Christine whispered.

"Then why do you remain?" Erik pressed.

"Because…because…" Christine faltered. She stood suddenly. "Oh why are you doing this to me Erik?"

"Doing what Christine? It's a simple question," he said as he stood as well, fighting to keep his voice calm.

"No it isn't Erik, you know that!"

"No I don't know that Christine!" he said, his volume rising slightly. "Answer me!"

She whirled on him, her temper flaring, "And what gives you the right to demand that of me? You brought me here. Invited me to stay, didn't you?" 

Erik bit back a harsh remark, realizing that this would get out of hand if it didn't stop now, and besides…all of this stress couldn't be good for her.

He ran his hand through his hair resignedly. "I did… I'm sorry Christine. But…I wish to know. Please, I humbly request an answer. Why are you still here?"

Christine felt her heart drop. His "humble request" had hit her hard, especially when she didn't have an answer to offer him. 

"Because Erik…" She paused, biting her lip in apprehension. She turned her back on him as tears began to cascade down her face. _Because I love you… Say it Christine! _

"What is it Christine?" Erik pressed, resolved to get some response from her.

Christine looked at him fearfully as new tears formed in her eyes. "I can't do this, I can't…I…I…" she trailed off, and with a last look at Erik, turned and ran for the door.

"Christine, wait!" he cried.

She had opened the door, but turned at his voice. "Erik I'm sorry, I can't do this now. I will return…I promise."

Erik opened his mouth to speak again, but she was already gone. He turned slowly and sunk into an armchair. He looked down at his hands and saw that he was shaking. 

He attempted to comprehend what had just happened, but his mind was spinning… He dared not think about what he had subconsciously been wishing she would say… _She doesn't love you Erik! Stop this nonsense! _If she had meant to say that she wouldn't have run off…

She ran off! Erik stood up abruptly, temporarily replacing his jumbled emotions with sheer concern for Christine's safety. He hurried out the door and saw a place up ahead of him where a few footprints marred the shore of the lake. She had gone out to the Rue Scribe. He followed the path she must have taken and up to the door. Here he stopped. He couldn't go out there, not now, it was still daylight, the sun had barely begun to set…

As he was contemplating what to do next he heard a small noise to his right. He peered through the darkness and saw Christine collapsed on the ground.

"Christine?"

She cried out, startled. She hadn't heard him approach at all and there wasn't much to be seen in the darkness. But she calmed as she slowly recognized his voice.

"Leave me Erik. I can't do this…"

"What Christine?" Erik said softly, crouching down beside her.

She turned her tear-streaked face up to his. "Erik, not three months ago, I was engaged. It's not even been three months… I'm not ready for this Erik. Nothing can be…between us…not now, please…not three months." Christine buried her face in her hands and began to sob. Erik crouched beside her silently. He let her cry. There could be nothing between them… He sighed inwardly. He had known that of course, accepted that fact long ago, it was embedded in his common sense. But if it was such a concrete fact…why did he feel such a horrible blow of disappointment?

Christine looked up at Erik after a few minutes. "Now what happens?" she whispered.

Erik stood up, "Now, we get you out of this cold, damp cellar." He extended his hand to help her up.

As soon as she was standing Erik began to release his hand, but Christine held fast to it. They began to walk together; Erik stared down at their clasped hands, in wonder, but accepted this contact without a word. He felt a warm tingle travel up his arms, as the warmth of her hand seemed to heat his entire body.

"Well I'd hate to know what Raoul would think if he knew I was down here," Christine said lightly.

"I dare say he wouldn't be pleased," Erik responded.

Christine let out a short laugh. "No, he wouldn't be would he?"

"But…" Erik began, stopping her. "I think he would have wanted you to be safe."

"I don't think he'd exactly consider this safe."

"But you are safe here Christine, you know that don't you?" Erik said seriously.

Christine stared at him for a moment. "Yes I know that."

They began walking again. As they entered the house, Christine turned to Erik. 

"I'm sorry."

A/N: All right, all right, I can hear the collective groan already, but please don't get mad at Christine. She's been through a lot and she's got those rampaging hormones to deal with remember.

Please, if you have any constructive criticism, tell me. I would love to hear it. 

Also, if in the next few chapters, if anything starts to drag at anytime make sure to let me know.

And now, as always, please review! I love reading your thoughts, it's truly the highlight of my day. :)


	18. Emotion

A/N: All right, I sincerely apologize for the long day. I don't really have an excuse, but I am sorry.

Shadow Myst and florence: Thank you for your comments. They were most appreciated. :)

Midasgirl: omg…I just had my Erik complimented by the person who writes Erik so magnificently I can hardly believe it… *huge grin*

Thank you everyone for all of your comments, they were just lovely and made me so happy!! :)

All right, I don't know how this chapter will go over. Erik and Christine completely ran amok and created half of this all by themselves, so don't blame me, lol. 

Later that night, Christine retreated to her room, leaving Erik seated in front of the fire. She took a last look at him and right before the door closed she saw his head drop into his hands. She shut the door quickly, a horrible ache in her heart as she did so. She knew what she wanted then. She wanted to go back out there, to be with him. But something held her back, kept her from leaving the room.

She undressed quickly, donning her nightgown, before plopping unceremoniously onto the bed. Christine realized that what she had said must have crushed him. But… She sighed, rolling over on her back. She stared up at the ceiling, thinking…about Raoul. 

Sometimes it was so easy to pretend down here, away from the rest of the world. To pretend that Raoul was fine, and in a few days she would go visit him, see him smile, hear his voice… Christine felt tears slide down her cheeks as she thought of this. 

I'll never see him again… 

Of course, Christine believed in the promise of an afterlife, a chance to see her beloved Raoul again someday. But right then, so far underground, so far away from others, the idea of that seemed so distant. She sat up suddenly, overcome by an incredible urge to see him, to hear him call her name. She looked around frantically; as if she thought that if she looked hard enough he would appear. 

The truth struck her hard at that moment. The realization that he wasn't coming back…

She was aware that she was sobbing, she was also aware that Erik would probably hear her, but she didn't care. Her chest felt about to explode from the terrible anguish that coursed through her body. At some point she fell asleep, having exhausted herself

Erik sat up abruptly when he heard a sound issuing from Christine's room. He rose slowly, indecisively making his way to the door. He pressed his ear up to the wood and listened. She was crying. Her cries were filled with such anguish, such raw emotion… His fist rose, as if to knock, but something stopped him. He stayed very still, listening to her sobs. After a few moments he became aware that he too was crying. He sank down to the ground, his head resting against the door. He cried with her, he felt what she was feeling. He knew what pain felt like. The pain of losing someone you love. They cried. They cried together, but at the same time, they cried worlds apart.

Christine awoke tangled in the blankets on her bed. She had fallen asleep in a rather odd position and was now quite tangled up. She looked sleepily at the clock while struggling to remove herself from the sheets. It was two in the morning. Christine sat up in bed, finally free of her bonds. She remembered why she had fallen asleep so oddly, why she had been tossing and turning all night. Suddenly quite wide-awake she crept to the door of her room. Pressing her ear against the wood, she listened for any sound. Although, she realized, even if Erik was out there, she most likely wouldn't be able to hear him. She went to the bed, retrieving a blanket, which she wrapped around herself, more as an object of comfort than from protection from the cold.

She opened the door a crack and peered into the sitting room. It was empty. She pushed the door open soundlessly and crept into the room. Somehow she doubted that Erik was asleep and she didn't feel ready for another confrontation just yet.

She seated herself in an armchair by the fire, nearly burnt out, but some embers were still burning a bright red. She curled her legs under herself and simply stared into the grate, letting her mind go numb. It was better that way, she didn't need to think.

Christine sunk into a deep stupor, bordering on complete unconsciousness. At one point she became vaguely aware of a presence in the room. She drifted off to sleep, but was still semi-aware of her surroundings and she could have sworn that she had heard something, as if someone were weeping softly. This barely had time to register before her body succumbed to blissful sleep.

Christine awoke in her bed the next morning. As she washed and dressed, she wondered vaguely whether she had only dreamed leaving her room. 

When she had deemed herself presentable, she went to the door. She let her hand hover above the knob for a moment. Erik was out there. She had to face him now… She withdrew her hand quickly. What could she possibly say to him? For a moment she wished to be almost anywhere else on earth. All she had done was cause him pain. Her presence here couldn't be appreciated. Especially after what she had done to him last night. There was no one else to blame for that; it was her fault, and hers alone.

She stared at the door, knowing she had to go out there, but at the same time contemplating how long she could wait to do so. At last she felt…almost ready. Before she could change her mind, she seized the doorknob and swung open the door. 

The sitting room was empty. She went into the kitchen where Erik could usually be found in the mornings. But today he was not there. Christine went to the counter upon which was a fresh cup of tea and a note. It was short, devoid of any emotion.

_I shall return shortly. Breakfast has been attended to._

_                                                                                  Erik_

Christine sighed. She had been dreading seeing Erik this morning, but now that it had been postponed she did not feel relieved. She actually felt more anxious than she had been before.

She picked up the tea and went into the dining room where, like Erik had said, breakfast had been laid out for her. She suddenly realized how hungry she was. The last time she had eaten was the morning before. Her mind didn't want to eat, but her body refused to let her skip this meal.

It didn't take her long to finish. She stood, collecting her plate, and made her way to the kitchen. She wiped the china with a cloth and placed it back in the cupboard where it belonged.

Not knowing what to do with her time next, she made the decision to go to the library. Reading would make the time between then and Erik's return seem faster.

She scanned the shelves. Choosing a book out of Erik's collection was at times a phenomenal task, especially if one didn't know what they were in the mood for. 

Christine lazily ran her fingers over the spines, deciding that it would be easier to pull out a book at random. She stopped and pulled out the very large book her fingers rested on. __

_Encyclopedia of Medicine: Diseases and Cures_, she read off of the cover.

"Well maybe it isn't easier to choose a book at random," she said to herself, placing the book back on the shelf.

She looked at the various books in front of her and realized they were all informative books such as that one had been. She moved down a shelf or two, finding books more appropriate for reading for pleasure. Again she went for the random method. Stopping suddenly and selecting the book her hand stopped on.

_Romeo and Juliet._

Christine stared at the book. She knew it was a very sad and tragic story. But perhaps she was in the mood for tragedy. She sat down in a large armchair with the book, contemplating the logic behind reading a tragedy when your own life could easily pass for one.

_In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,  
And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light:  
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true  
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.  
I should have been more strange, I must confess,  
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,  
My true love's passion: therefore pardon me,  
And not impute this yielding to light love,  
Which the dark night hath so discovered._

Christine stopped to look at the time. Shocked at how long she had been reading, knowing that Erik had most likely returned, she dropped the book and hurried into the sitting room. It was empty. She could see into the foyer from where she stood and she could see Erik's cloak and hat hanging up. He was here. And he was avoiding her.

She sank onto the divan wearily. _Perhaps it is just as well he wants nothing to do with me_, she thought sadly. _Ma_y_be now he can have at least a single day of peace._

Just as she thought this, the door to Erik's study opened and he emerged. He walked into the sitting room and sat down without comment.

Christine knew that if she were to talk to him, she would have to begin the conversation. 

They sat for several minutes in uncomfortable silence while Christine struggled for something to say. Surely Erik could see the discomfort this was causing her. Surely he would speak soon, but he didn't.

Finally she spoke, unable to bare the silence any longer.

"Erik, please don't be angry with me."

He turned to face her, obviously surprised at what she had said. He recovered quickly and turned away, "I'm not angry with you Christine, " he said softly.

Christine, relieved that he wasn't harboring any hostile feelings toward her, persisted.

"Then why have you been avoiding me all morning?" she asked carefully.

Erik paused for a moment, "Be…because I…"

Christine stared. She had never known him to stutter over his words. Something was wrong…

Erik was struggling with himself for a decision. He was on the brink of revealing what he was feeling to Christine. He was so close to telling her about the emotions running through him…but he couldn't. He could almost hear himself saying the words, but he couldn't. He had built strong walls around his emotions and he wouldn't allow them to crumble. They were too much a part of him to let go and tell her everything.

He sighed, deciding it would be best for her if he did not go into what he felt. She was more important and always would be.

He sat back in his chair and said, "It's not your fault Christine."

Christine opened her mouth to say something. He had avoided her question, which he often did. But something kept her silent.

Erik continued when she didn't speak. "You must believe that Christine. I would never blame you. I would never be angry with you. I understand why you…said what you did last night."

He stood abruptly, unwilling to go into it any further. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

He strode quickly across the room, feeling Christine's gaze burning into the back of his head as he opened the door of his bedroom.

Without turning, he said softly, "I am sorry about the vicomte."

And with that he went into the room, closing the door rather loudly behind him.

Erik collapsed into a chair in the corner, letting his head drop into his hands. He couldn't do this anymore. Keep up this façade of being at peace. He had thought that maybe, if he just blocked everything out, all of these problems would go away.

But no such thing had happened. These days of being able to ignore the truth were coming to an end fast. 

Erik knew he shouldn't have asked Christine about…her intentions…as he did the night before. Neither of them was really ready for it, but he simply hadn't been able to bear the not knowing any longer. But now, he did know and if it was possible, he felt worse than he had before.

But he didn't matter. Christine mattered. Her feelings were what mattered. How could he have been so selfish?

He stood up suddenly, angry with himself again. Angry with himself, and the entire world. Maybe he was even angry with Christine. He was angry that she could be so calm, take all of this in so well. He couldn't show what he was feeling about this. If Christine could be brave then how could he possibly think of resorting to any show of weakness over this? 

Erik was not weak. Far from it, and he'd be damned before he upset Christine with his own emotions. Erik paused for a moment. There was a certain level of absurdity in that statement. But nevertheless, he would not show Christine what this had done to him, ever. She could never know. 

He knew full well that she still blamed herself; surely this would only cause her more pain.

Erik ceased his pacing in front of the organ. He stared at it for a moment, ran his fingers gently over the hard ivory of the keys. He hadn't played for a long time. He needed it, needed the release that music always seemed to bring him. But he was afraid of scaring Christine. It had happened before…

Erik was beginning to doubt that even music could cure him of this pain. He hadn't known it was possible to feel this way, to feel this much despair. Christine had left him, but then there had been the comfort that she would be cared for, safe,…happy.

Now there was no comfort. 

He once again ran his fingers over the keys, feeling a tingle go through them. He lifted his hands over the keys, prepared to hit the first chord, ready for the sheer magnitude of the relief it might bring.

"Erik! Come out of there at once!" Christine said sharply, knocking loudly on the door of his bedroom. She would not allow him to stay in there and wallow in despair as he was surely doing. There had been enough of that going around.

Erik's hands fell away from the keys and he swung around. She was forcing another interview on him… He could hardly bear to open the door and see her again! He had admitted to her that he was sorry that Raoul was dead… Wasn't that enough to buy him sometime to think by himself?

Christine needed him though…and he could not deny her that. Reluctantly, he walked away from the organ and opened the door. Christine stood outside, looking forlorn and so young… It broke his heart. 

She spoke first. "Erik, I don't want you to lock yourself up in there right now… I can't bear to be alone like this, and you surely can't be happy all by yourself right now! I know you are not." She paused and sighed. "And…" she said, sounding as though she would cry, and indeed when she looked up at him her eyes shined with tears. "I…want to thank you, for caring so much. I want to thank you for what you just said. It means the world to me."

Suddenly she cast her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. He caught her as she fell against him. Even though there was so much trouble between them, at least one point of happiness could be found at that moment as Erik realized this no longer was a frightening experience. He could hold her and she wouldn't pull away. He wasn't harming her, this was…comforting her. She wanted him to hold her. He held her to him, smoothed her hair, breathed in her perfume. Oh God he loved her…

But there is a saying about things you love. Erik slowly drew himself away from her, but held onto her arm, leading her to the divan where they both sat. Oh what could he say to her now? He searched for the right words, but this was something he didn't exactly have much practice with. He tried to think of it in terms of composing an opera. What would the dashing young tenor say to the woman he loved who was hurting so much?

"Christine…" he began slowly. "I'm sorry… You were hurt so many times, and none of this should have happened. But…just know that…I promised you, you would always be safe here…"

He had noticed her eyes drifting towards the floor as they often did when he tried to speak to her in this manner. It just didn't seem to suit him.

He ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "I'm not any good at this," he muttered, half to himself.

He looked back to Christine when she took his hand. There were tears in her eyes. "Please, go on."

Erik sighed. "I don't know what I can say… I don't know what I can do to stop this… I want you to be happy Christine."

"I'm sorry, Erik," she said. "I can't be happy for you and I'm sorry…" Christine looked at him now, knowing just how much she was hurting him still. Oh why had this happened to them?

"Christine, please stop apologizing," Erik said. "You have done nothing." He let his hand trace the now familiar patch of air beside her cheek as he said this.

"Erik…" Christine said carefully, watching his hand. "You may…" she paused, unsure of what she really wanted to say. "You can touch me Erik," she said quietly.

Erik's hand stopped as he stared at her. She had just given him permission to touch her… He had never expected to hear those words from anyone, ever. His hand had begun to shake and he let it drop. He stood up quickly and began to go back to his room.

"Erik wait," Christine said, grabbing his arm to stop him.

Erik wrenched his arm free of her grasp. "Please…" he said, breathlessly. "I…need a moment."

Within seconds the door had slammed behind him and Christine was alone. But for some reason she felt better… Erik would return and maybe then… Maybe everything would be all right.

A/N: End scene. Yes, there is the chapter, something will actually HAPPEN in the next one, lol. I believe the next chapter will be skipping ahead a month or two just to warn you now.

As always, Please Review! They are such an incredible highlight in my life. I love 'em :)


	19. It is easy to pretend

Disclaimer: Characters are still not mine.

Credit and love to Riene for helping me with this chapter :)

A/N: Sorry this update took so long guys! I was having some issues…lol.

florence: Thank you so much for your continued comments, I really appreciate them :)

Riene: Hope your not too disappointed with me, I tried, lol

Thank you so much to all of my reviewers! You guys leave such wonderful comments and I really cant thank you enough. You're all awesome :)

_Attention!!!_

_Approximately two months have passed between this chapter and the last one. Christine is now a little shy of five months pregnant._

And now, on with the chapter :)

Christine struggled desperately. She twisted and turned, jumped up and down, pulled as hard as she could, but it was no use. With one last tug she realized that she had been defeated. She threw the corset to the ground in disgust. It just wouldn't fit. 

It was true, for weeks now she had been forced to lace the corset looser and looser, but now, it wouldn't fit at all. Christine looked down at her body, repulsed by what she saw. Her hand went to her stomach and as she ran it slowly down her abdomen she felt a tremor of revulsion and self-loathing run through her.

The tears came quickly and without warning. In seconds she was a sobbing mess on the floor. She stared angrily at the corset just a foot away. She snatched it up and began to tear at it ferociously. She was furious when the material refused to rip. With a last futile tug, she let it fall from her fingers. Sobbing louder, she glared at it; it was mocking her she knew.

This was one of the most horrifying moments of her life as she realized that she was pregnant… Just a moment…she already knew that of course, but Christine, as she had cried out that statement to Meg and then again to Erik, hadn't truly realized what would happen to her. Of course she knew of the horrors of pregnancy, but somehow when she had thought of them, they had always seemed to exclude her. Now she finally knew what it meant. She was pregnant.

Again her hand went to her stomach. She felt it slowly, letting the image of a child growing inside of her sink in. Her shoulders sank as if a weight had been lowered on them as she did something she had avoided doing for the last two months, she looked forward, toward the future. She realized what was going to happen to her…

Another sob escaped her throat and she threw herself forward, letting her head drop onto her arms. She had not known it was possible to cry quite this hard. But suddenly it was all so unfair. She couldn't understand why she hadn't thought about this before. If she had just let the idea come slowly, maybe it wouldn't have been so terrible. Christine had desperately tried to block out the horror of it all and now it struck her with terrible force.

"Christine?"

Christine sat up with a start, quickly stifling the sob, which nearly choked her, as a knock came at the door. Erik was out there.

Erik was out there…

Christine couldn't speak, her sobs were choking her, her throat was so tight from trying to restrain them that she could barely breathe.

When she did not respond, Erik knocked again. "Christine? Are you all right?"

Christine swallowed harshly, forcing sound to come out of her mouth. "Yes Erik," she managed to choke.

She could almost see Erik frowning through the door, but he continued, choosing not to question her further. "Breakfast is ready, my dear."

Breakfast? With _Erik_? Christine thought frantically, she couldn't go out there, not like this, not  _looking _like this! 

"I'm…I'm not hungry Erik," she managed. 

Now she was sure Erik was frowning. "Are…are you feeling all right?" he questioned carefully.

He knew something was wrong. What if he demanded that she come out?

"Yes…I mean no, I'm not feeling well," Christine said, deciding it was easier to agree with him than try to think up an excuse on her own.

There was a long pause, at last Erik said. "Very well. I shall prepare something for you later if you are feeling better."

"Thank you…" she said, even though she knew that Erik hadn't believed one word she had told him. 

And it was true, Erik stood outside the door for a several moments longer, frowning just as Christine had imagined. It worried him that she felt that she had to lie to him… Why was she so insistent on his departure? Erik knew something was wrong, but had learned that it was not always worth it to attempt to pry Christine out of her room if she was bent on staying put. Reluctantly, he turned away, convincing himself that she would talk to him later if something was really bothering her… She knew full well that she could always talk to him.

After a few minutes Christine stood up slowly and went to her wardrobe. She stared at the dresses hanging there, knowing that they would never fit… She felt each one experimentally, tugging on the material slightly. At last she found one with an amount of give to the fabric and pulled it out, laying it on the bed.

In a daze she pulled on her chemise, then turned back to face the dress. Slowly she picked it up. Silently praying that it would fit, she slipped it over her head. She pulled it down her body gently, and with a great tug it slipped over her stomach. The rest fell down, the material brushing her ankles. She looked toward the ceiling, afraid to look down, unable to bare the thought of her disgusting body.

She took a deep breath and let her head drop. Her hand came to her mouth in horror as she saw the dress stretched grotesquely over the bulge that had been her stomach. 

Covering her eyes with her hands, she fell to her knees weeping. 

She was pregnant.

These last two months had been…almost blissful. It had been so easy, too easy, to just block everything out. With Erik, the rest of the world could be so easily forgotten. She had even started to sing on occasion, something she hadn't done for months. But now reality had returned. She had wrapped herself in denial, in the safe cocoon Erik had wrapped protectively around her, but she could no longer do so.

She was pregnant.

She had been raped.

Christine had never told anyone the details of this…not even Meg. She knew she had caused them more pain than it was worth, perhaps it would have been a comfort if they knew…but she hadn't been able to bring herself to discuss it and no one had asked or expected her to.

She knew what had happened. There had been three of them… She remembered she had been forced to the ground. She had screamed constantly, she remembered them shouting at each other to shut her up or someone might hear… She had struggled, they had beaten her. She remembered that… She remembered their hands… But mostly the pain as the blows struck her head. She had been nearly unconscious… She remembered…no…she didn't remember… Christine shook her head, trying to clear the fog that seemed to cloud her mind whenever she thought of it.

But had she bothered to tell anyone about this? No… She realized now what she must have put Erik through. To know that, to imagine the vivid memories she must harbor… But she did not have vivid memories…

Sighing, she opened her eyes, the view of her stomach greeting her immediately. She stood abruptly. She wouldn't leave the room. Yes, she couldn't let anyone see her like this. She couldn't let _Erik _see her like this.

Christine resolutely crossed the room and seated herself in the chair beside the small fireplace. She soon found that when one has troubles, it is not the best thing to simply sit with nothing else to occupy one's time. 

She needed to read. When she read, she could escape into the story and not have to think about her own life. She reached toward her night table, but stopped when she saw that the book she had been reading was not there. 

She tried to remember the last time she had read it. Sighing deeply, she remembered that she had left the novel in the sitting room, on the table beside the divan. Well, going to get it was out of the question so Christine just sank back into the chair. 

Staring into a fire is a good activity when one wishes to mull over one's thoughts, but when that is the last thing a person wants to do…

Christine stood abruptly and began to pace the room. Surely there was something in this room that could occupy her time. Finding nothing of any real interest, she sat down at her vanity and began to meticulously brush her hair. She split her hair into several sections and counted one hundred strokes for each one. She finished quite sometime later. She stared into the mirror before her, running her fingers through her hair, savoring how soft it was. 

She stood up and again wished she had brought her book to bed with her the night before. Maybe…maybe she could sneak out of her room quickly, grab the book, and run back in.  Maybe Erik wouldn't be there… Maybe he was busy…

Deciding to make an attempt to rescue her book, Christine looked around for something to cover herself. Opening the wardrobe, she found a large shawl and wrapped it carefully around herself. 

Holding it tightly shut, she went to the door. 

"Erik?" she called, softly enough so that he could only have heard her if he was in the sitting room. If he was in his study…if the door was closed…he needn't know she had left the room.

When he didn't respond, she turned the doorknob tentatively and pushed the door open a crack. 

"Erik?" she called again, softer this time.

She pushed the door open enough so that she could stick her head out and look into the room. It was empty.

She easily spotted her book. Making sure the shawl covered her well enough, she tiptoed into the room. She made her way carefully to the table, snatched up the book and was preparing to make a run back to her room when she was stopped by a voice from behind her.

"You've come out of your room I see."

Startled, Christine let out a small cry and dropped the book. Keeping her back to Erik, Christine said, "Yes…I just wanted my book."

"Are you still feeling poorly?" Erik asked, concerned.

Christine faltered slightly, but managed to continue, "…Yes, I've been asleep…I wanted my book," she repeated. Having her back to him was extremely awkward.

"Would you like me to bring you anything?" Erik asked. 

Christine shook her head quickly, "No, no, I'll be fine." She bent down to pick up her book, praying that Erik would leave the room.

As she straightened, she adjusted the shawl again, to make sure it still fell the way she wanted it to. They stood there for a few moments, both of them refusing to retreat. Christine would not turn around with Erik standing there and Erik would not leave until Christine turned around.

"Christine, what's wrong?" Erik asked. Her odd behavior worried him.

"Nothing Erik, I'll be fine."

"Christine," Erik began. She could hear him walking toward her.

"Stop!" she cried out suddenly.

Erik stopped and narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Because…because…" Christine thought frantically for an excuse, but thinking of none she put on an irritated air and said, "Just go away Erik! Leave me alone."

Erik paused, unsure if he should leave, if he had done something to offend her in some way, or if he should stay, because something else entirely was bothering her. 

"Christine…please," he said, beginning to walk toward her again.

"Erik!" she shouted frantically. 

Again he stopped. By this time he was extremely worried, why on earth was she acting so oddly? 

"Erik, please, just go away," she said quietly, in a final plea. If he didn't leave now she would have to turn around and face him.

"Christine, something is wrong, perhaps…perhaps I could help you," he said carefully.

Christine's shoulders sagged, "You can't help me Erik."

"Christine, it's rather difficult to discuss this with your back to me."

Christine sighed, she was defeated, she had to turn. She placed the book back on the table, wrapped the shawl tighter around herself, and crossed her arms in front of her stomach. Satisfied that it was very difficult to decipher anything wrong with her body, she turned slowly, keeping her eyes to the floor.

Erik searched her form with his eyes, trying to find something physically wrong with her, but she looked all right… She was standing rather oddly, she didn't normally slouch so, and she was never one to stand with her arms crossed. They normally clasped together in front of her. Of course…this didn't necessarily mean anything, it was simply an observation.

"Now that wasn't so difficult was it?" Erik said lightly.

Christine shifted uncomfortably. _Yes Erik, it was._

"May I go now?" Christine said with annoyance in her voice.

Erik narrowed his eyes, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong!" Christine shouted before pushing past him, towards her room. 

"Christine wait," he said, catching her arm as she went passed him.

"Let go of me Erik!" she said, frantically trying to cover herself where the shawl had slipped when Erik had grabbed her.

"Christine listen to me," he said, still holding her arm. "Please…why can't you tell me what is going on?"

She looked up at him, saw the hurt in his eyes, suddenly she felt terrible. Why couldn't she tell him? Erik wouldn't care…would he? Who was he to judge someone else's physical beauty? But then Christine remembered in disgust that this was different. He would never treat her the same again. She was just going to be disgusting and enormous and there would be nothing she could do about it.

"I…I…" she stammered, trying to stall so she could make a decision. 

At last she sighed, and slowly let the shawl slide from her shoulders. She looked away, her face arranged in an expression of pain and embarrassment, refusing to look at Erik.

Erik raised an eyebrow, confused by this action. He again, looked her over with his eyes. He allowed them to hover for a moment on her abdomen before they swept upward to her face. So that was what all of this was about… He studied her expression and was startled to see a tear rolling down her cheek.

"My dear, please, don't cry," he said, stepping up to her. He gently wiped the tear away and turned her slightly, so she faced him directly.

"Oh, Christine, " Erik sighed, saddened at the despair he saw in her eyes.  She was visibly trembling, as if in anticipation of his rejection.

Instead of granting this, he pulled her into his arms and cradled her gently. "You are so beautiful Christine."

She savored his gentle arms that wrapped her in a blanket of warmth, but pulled away as she thought about what he had just said. She walked to the divan and sat down, crossing her arms in front of her stomach again.

"And you expect me to believe that I suppose?" she said coldly.

"Yes," he said simply.

"How can you tell me such a horrible lie Erik?" Christine questioned sadly.

"It is the truth Christine, whether you choose to believe it, is your choice."

She sighed, refusing to believe his words. "I'm hideous and we both know it," she whispered softly, letting her head drop into her hands.

Erik froze at this announcement. A ringing silence filled the room. He simply stared at Christine, not knowing how to react to this.

At last he turned away sadly, "I believe…" he said slowly, "that we both know that there is only one person in this room who could possibly match that description."

And with that he disappeared into his study, closing the door roughly behind him.

Christine looked up in time to see him go. She instantly felt like the most vile creature on earth. What had she done? How could she have said something like that to him? She didn't think…

She curled herself into a ball on the divan, praying that the blackness she had been plunged into would swallow her whole. It suddenly seemed so futile to remain living when all her continued presence on the earth could do was bring was pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Erik sighed heavily as the door slammed shut. He hated himself for saying that. He had tried to restrain himself… What he had ended up saying was actually a great deal less harsh than what he had originally planned. Now, as if Christine wasn't going through enough, he had added to her conscience. Why couldn't he learn to control himself? He exhaled angrily. He'd return to her and apologize after her calmed down. He wouldn't enjoy this apology, but if it made Christine feel better, even in a small amount, then he would do it. He knew that she hated to think he was angry with her…

It was Christine's hour of need and Erik had left her by herself, feeling guilty. He knew how frightened she must be. She was just a child…a child who had been forced to grow up and shoulder this terrible burden. 

In truth …Erik was frightened as well. He had been afraid very few times in his life. The only thing that seemed to scare him was the thought of Christine's sadness. But this was a new feeling for Erik. Christine was pregnant…and he was frightened. It scared him to think what might happen after the baby was born… The baby… For some reason Erik thought that raising a child five stories below an opera house probably wasn't the best thing, but that would mean… No, he wouldn't think of that now. He couldn't be considering himself, he didn't matter. He reminded himself of this constantly. Christine was all that mattered now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meg knocked anxiously on the door of her mother's office. She let her hand fall, shifting her weight rapidly several times. 

After what seemed like a very long time to Meg, Madame Giry opened the door.

"Well?" Meg said immediately. "Have you spoken with him?"

Madame Giry sighed, stepping aside to let her daughter enter the office. This was not a conversation that needed to happen in the hall, within hearing of anyone who might pass by.

Meg sat down in the chair in front of her mother's desk, nervously twirling a strand of her hair.

Meg watched her mother close the door, while Madame Giry struggled to maintain her patience.

"Now Meg," she said, "Did I not tell you that I would inform you if I spoke with him?"

"Well…yes, but I thought that maybe…"

Madame Giry held up her hand to stop her. "Meg, please. Constantly pestering me about it will not make him instantly appear." She paused for a moment. "It is odd though…" she said, more to herself than to Meg.

"What if something's wrong, Mama?" Meg said. "Can't you…shouldn't you…go find him or something?" 

Madame Giry sat down in the chair beside her daughter and took her hands. "I know how you worry about her Meg, but I'm sure she's fine. It is not my place to get wrapped up in their business."

"But it is our business! Christine is my friend!" Meg said in exasperation. "Isn't there anything you can do? Anything at all?"

Madame Giry stood up again. "I can wait, which is more than I can say for you."

"I don't understand how you can be so calm," Meg said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. 

"Why shouldn't I be calm?"            she said, walking behind her desk and taking up her cane.

"Where are you going?" Meg asked.

"The same place you're going," Madame Giry answered simply.

"Oh mother, how can you be thinking about dancing?"

"It is my job Meg, now come along."

After a moment, Meg stood up resignedly. Madame Giry stood at the door, holding it open, waiting for Meg to pass.

Meg stopped before walking out of the office, and gave her mother a pleading look.

Madame Giry glared at her daughter, who promptly wiped the look off her face and scurried out the door and down the hall.

"Meg, wait…"

Meg turned at her mother's voice, dreading being reprimanded.

Madame Giry sighed, not quite believing that she was going to give in to her daughter. "I'll see what I can do."

Meg smiled gratefully, then hurried toward the auditorium before her mother needed to remind her again. 

Madame Giry sighed, it was unlike her to yield to her daughter's wishes so easily, but…she too was curious. It was rather odd that they had seen nothing of Christine nor Erik in nearly two weeks. Tomorrow she would go see him. Just to make sure everything was all right… Madame Giry shook her head, realizing how silly her thoughts were. If there was something seriously wrong, she was confident that Erik would inform her eventually. But for Meg's sake she would see him. And for her own sake as well…she could no longer stand Meg's constant questions that she had no answer for. 

Christine wrapped her pale pink cloak tightly around herself. She knew it would be quite warm in the upper levels of the opera, but she didn't think she could bear the scandal it would cause if she were seen, pregnant. She shuddered at the very thought of what people might say…

She had been fitted for several new dresses about a week ago. It had taken Erik almost a week to convince Christine to leave the house. She had finally agreed when she realized that if Erik was willing to go out for her sake, than she should be willing as well. 

It had really surprised Christine, that Erik had been the one to take her for new gowns. She would have thought that he would simply dump her on Madame Giry, unable to bear the burden of doing it himself. But Erik had taken her out. It had meant more to her than she could tell him. Knowing that he was standing just outside, as she went through the humiliation of new measurements, was a great comfort.

She ran her hand lightly over her stomach. At least she was comfortable and no longer painfully squeezed into her old dresses. She often longed for them, dreaming of the day that she could wear them again.

Once again, adjusting her cloak Christine took a deep breath, trying to convince herself she was ready. She hadn't spoken to Meg in…more than two weeks. She sighed as she realized how long it had been. She had made a point to see Meg at least every other day. She was self-conscious about seeing Meg… Even though she knew Meg would never judge her, Christine didn't know if she could bear to see her. Meg, who was so beautiful and petite. 

Christine put the thought out of her head. She was going today and that was that. Pulling at her cloak for what seemed the thousandth time, she stepped out of her room.

"Erik?" she called.

After a moment, he emerged from his study.

"I'm going to see Meg, I should return soon," she said, heading for the door.

Erik raised an eyebrow in surprise. _Christine, willingly leaving the house…interesting._ He walked to the door with her, stopping her before she left.

He smiled softly at her, "You look beautiful Christine."

Christine flushed and looked away. "Thank you Erik."

A moment later she was gone, Erik stood in the doorway, watching her retreat down the passage.

Christine opened the door of the passage that would lead her to the second floor. She nearly screamed as she found herself face to face with Madame Giry.

Stepping back a little she gasped, "Madame, you frightened me. Oh, I'm sorry, do you need to get through?" Christine stepped aside, leaving the door clear.

"No, not anymore. I was just going to find you. Meg has been a little…anxious about your whereabouts. She can get somewhat excited over these things…" 

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry I haven't been to see her," Christine said.

"Well I am quite certain all will be forgiven."

"Yes…well, I had better be going. Goodbye Madame Giry," she said, walking quickly down the hall to find Meg.

Madame Giry closed the door carefully, pondering the curious way Christine clutched her cloak around herself.

Christine knocked anxiously on Meg's dressing room door. She was angry with herself, that she had allowed Meg to be worried about her. She hadn't been thinking about such things at all.

"Just a minute!" she heard Meg call, with slight annoyance in her voice.

Christine took this opportunity to, once again, adjust her cloak. She hoped Meg wouldn't notice immediately. 

At last the door swung open. Meg took one look at Christine, her face breaking into an enormous smile, and dragged her into the room.

"Christine!" Meg shouted excitedly, but then her smile faded. "Where on earth have you been? Why haven't you been to see me? I was so worried, Christine."

Christine seated herself on the divan calmly and crossing her arms in front of her. "Oh I haven't been far. And you always have the prerogative to come visit me Meg."

Christine watched with mild amusement as Meg's face became at lease three shades whiter.

"Oh Meg, I was just kidding."

Meg laughed dryly, "You are pure evil sometimes Christine."

"Well I'm sure you don't want pure evil in your dressing room, so I'll just take my leave…" Christine said, standing.

"Oh Christine, stop it. Sit down," Meg said, rolling her eyes. "But please," she said, becoming serious. "Why haven't you been to see me? Are you all right?"

Christine sighed and remained standing as Meg sat down. "Not entirely…"

"What's wrong?" Meg asked, frowning at Christine's solemn tone.

Christine turned her back to Meg and slowly removed her cloak. "Promise me that you won't think less of me after this."

Meg frowned again. "Why would I think less of you?"

"Promise me Meg."

"All right, I promise, now what is it?"

Christine closed her eyes for a moment before taking off her cloak and slowly turning around. She looked at Meg and burst into tears.

Meg was up and hugging Christine in an instant. "Oh Christine, shh, don't cry. It's all right."

They stood there for a long time. Meg let Christine cry. Sometimes that's what people really need, a shoulder to cry on. 

"Everything will be all right Christine."

A/N: Please Review!  


	20. Sickness and Gossip

Disclaimer: Oh you know Rosie!

A/N: All right, must as always thank my super fantabulous reviewers. You guys are so the coolest people of all time. Your reviews are so wonderful! It makes me so happy that people are enjoying this story as much as I am…lol. Love you all! :)

And I'm done babbling for the most part. Onto the chapter which starts about two weeks after Chapter 19 ended.

So…about two weeks later….

Christine awoke in the middle of the night with a searing pain in her head. Before she had fallen asleep, she had noticed a dull ache. But instead of fading, it had intensified greatly. For several minutes she sat up in her bed with her hands on the side of her head, trying to quell the pain. It seemed that she couldn't move. 

Trembling, she got to her feet and stumbled to the bathroom where she hastily ran a cloth under the cold water and pressed it to her forehead, hoping to relieve some of her pain. Finding it difficult to stand, she went back into the bedroom, perching on the edge of the bed with the cloth to her head and her eyes closed. 

At last the pain seemed to subside slightly and she no longer found it difficult to move about. Returning to the bathroom, she again wet the cloth, which had become warm against her forehead. 

Her head had cleared somewhat. When she had first woken, she had been groggy and could only feel the pain. She could not think of anything else. But now that it had diminished somewhat, she could sense her surroundings more clearly and she found that her bedroom felt incredibly stuffy.

Walking carefully out into the sitting room, she collapsed onto the divan. It was a larger area and she felt more out in the open, felt as if she could breathe easier. Swinging her feet up, she lay down, her head resting against a pillow. Closing her eyes, she tried to think about something peaceful, something that would take her mind off the pain. 

Christine simply let her mind wander wherever it wished to go. She saw in her mind the peaceful darkness of the house on the lake. She saw Erik standing beside the fire, playing his violin. Christine smiled, almost able to hear the song. The music stopped abruptly. Erik turned toward her and sat beside her where she lay on the divan. She noticed that her headache was gone. 

Erik's hand rose and gently traced the outline of her cheek. He leaned toward her, confidently, lovingly, and brought his lips to hers. 

Christine opened her eyes abruptly, ashamed that she had thought such a thing. Immediately, she noticed that a blanket had been draped over her. She must have fallen asleep…

Her headache had gone, but she felt drained of energy. With some difficulty, she sat up on the divan and looked at the clock. It was seven o'clock in the morning. She had fallen asleep, but had no way of knowing how long she had been in the sitting room.

Presently Erik entered the room and saw Christine sitting up, awake.

"Good morning Christine," he said. "I hope you slept well, although I imagine you would have been more comfortable in your bed." 

Groaning, Christine lay back on the pillow, "I didn't exactly sleep well."

Concerned Erik walked around the divan and sat down on it next to her. "Are you all right, my dear?"

"I just feel so tired. I woke up last night with a terrible headache," she explained, rubbing her temples slightly. 

Erik frowned, thinking, but came up with no obvious explanation for this. "If you ever feel poorly again, call for me. I will come to you."

Christine smiled slightly at his concern. "You are much too kind to me Erik," she said, taking his hand. "It was just a headache, I'm fine."

"You're certain you feel all right?" he persisted.

"Yes Erik, I'm fine, truly." 

Erik raised an eyebrow and brought his hand up to feel her forehead. Satisfied he said, "Well, perhaps you would like to get dressed and then join me for breakfast."

Christine looked down, noticing just now that she had entered the room last night in only her nightgown. However, she managed to quell her slight embarrassment at this discovery.

Erik then got up and went into the kitchen so she could remove the blanket draped over her without further embarrassment on her part.

The moment Erik closed the door to the kitchen he wilted, using the door to hold himself up. He was impressed with himself, that he had mentioned the fact that she was scarcely dressed so casually. But it had been quite a shock for him to find her sleeping on the divan in such a manner when he emerged from his room that morning. He had put a halt to his desire for her; the moment she said there could be nothing between them. But seeing her sleeping form, so beautiful, so…perfect. She really was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She didn't have the exotic beauty of the women in Persia and it was said the gypsies were some of the most beautiful women in the world… But Christine… She was beyond them all. She was elegant, angelic, classic…she was positively divine. 

"Erik…" 

Erik straightened himself abruptly at the sound of her voice. He sensed an urgency that didn't set well with him…

Quickly opening the door and sweeping his gaze over the room he saw her with her hand on the panel that was the door to her room. Frowning he walked to her.

"Christine?"

She was leaning against the wall with her hand, her breathing seemed irregular.

"Christine?" he said again, fear creeping into his voice.

He put his hand on her shoulder and she turned her head toward him.

"Erik…" she said shakily.

He caught her just as she began to fall.

Christine was back on her feet the next day. She seemed fine, but she had scared Erik half to death and Erik is not one to be easily frightened…

He couldn't understand what could have caused her to become so physically ill so suddenly. Naturally Erik had spoken to Madame Giry, inquiring if this was a common malady for an expecting woman. She had frowned and answered in the negative, which sent Erik out of his mind with worry.

But she was indeed, walking about the house as if nothing had happened.

Perhaps it was nothing…

Perhaps…

"Christine, I'm not sure you should be doing this." 

Christine stopped tying her cloak and turned around. 

"Erik, I promise, I feel fine. I've told you this." 

He frowned, but she smiled to assure him. Christine knew that under different circumstances he would have forbidden her to leave the house. But she knew he would never do that, therefore she must try to convince him that she was all right so he would not worry. 

Christine sighed. "All right, I won't stay long. Just let me say hello."

Erik considered her for a moment and answered lightly, "Well…I suppose I can grant you that."

Christine smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you Erik." 

Still holding her Erik said into her ear, "Please, if you feel ill, come back immediately."

Christine pulled away and went back to tying the strings on her cloak. "I will." She opened the door and turned back to him before stepping out. "Please try not to worry. Ill be fine."

Erik watched the door close behind her, shaking his head. Immediately he regretted letting her go. She was not well! She had fainted into his arms just a week ago.

She had recovered quickly, but he had refused to let her get out of bed for a several days. He had been constantly on edge since that it would happen again… Worried that something was seriously wrong.

Sighing he went into the library to once again search through his medical books in the hopes of finding what had happened to Christine. Perhaps it was nothing…but he didn't want to take the chance that her pregnancy had caused it.

He paused at this, thinking how odd it was to think of Christine in that sense…her pregnancy… He quickly pushed the thought out of his mind and began to search the shelves in search of a proper book. 

Christine made her way slowly up the stairs, knowing it would make Erik feel more secure knowing she was taking it easy. Although…climbing so many stairs wasn't exactly easy… She knew that soon she would not be able to make this trek any longer. It seemed Meg would have to come visit her after all… She wouldn't go into the house of course. Perhaps she could meet her a the Rue Scribe entrance… 

Christine decided not to think of it now and concentrate on the task at hand. She didn't remember the stairs being so difficult. She stopped before reaching the top to catch her breath.

Finally she reached the door and arranged the cloak over herself to hide her abdomen. Christine was painfully aware that it was becoming more and more obvious…

Satisfied she pushed the door open, stepping through and closing it quickly behind her.

She made her way to Meg's dressing room without incident, she saw no one, which was odd. Usually she passed one or two people. When this happened she quickly turned away on the pretense of checking to make sure her cloak wasn't dragging, or to look at a painting on the wall that she had just passed. Anything so that her face wouldn't be seen and she wouldn't be recognized. Christine knew that some people were aware of her presence. Luckily it seemed they weren't people who gossiped or really cared at all…

Christine rapped lightly on Meg's door. There was a small crash shortly after Meg shouted, "Give me a minute!" 

Christine smiled. Meg could be quite amusing at times… It seemed she could never simply open the door.

"Meg, it's me," Christine called.

"Christine!" Meg said excitedly, followed by another small crash. "Oh…no, give me a moment!"

Christine laughed. "It's quite all right, take your time."

Christine did wish she would hurry; it was growing extremely hot in the hallway. It was much too warm for a cloak… 

Christine looked quickly down both sides of the hall and then carefully removed her cloak. She felt much better after that. 

After waiting several more seconds, Christine sighed and leaned against the doorframe, impatient to get inside and sit down after all of those stairs.

"Christine?"

Christine swung around, startled by the voice from behind her. It was Jeanette, a girl her age she had been in the corps with. She was obviously on her way home, rehearsals being over for the day.

Jeanette smiled broadly and proceeded to talk very fast. "Oh I knew it was you Christine, I just knew it. How are you dear? I was just leaving and I…" She stopped as her eyes came to rest on Christine's stomach. 

Horrified, Christine realized what she was staring at and fast as lightning crossed her arms, letting her cloak dangle, hiding her body. Christine smiled and said, "I am doing well and yourself?"

Jeanette quickly closed her mouth and looked back up at Christine. "What? Oh, yes, I'm fine, but I really must be going." With that she turned on her heel heading back in the direction she came. "It was wonderful seeing you again Christine!" she called over her shoulder as she hurried away.

Christine stared after her, a sickening feeling spreading through her veins.

"I'm so sorry Christine, come in," Meg said, finally opening the door. "Christine?"

Meg frowned at her. Christine stood still staring down the hall where Jeanette had disappeared.

"Christine, what's wrong?"

Christine turned slowly to face Meg. "Let's get inside."

"Of course," Meg said stepping hastily aside so Christine could enter.

Once inside Christine collapsed onto the divan. Meg hurried over to her, concerned. "Are you all right Christine? Are you ill?"

Christine shook her head, but couldn't speak.

"Christine please, you're scaring me. What is it?" Meg pleaded.

"Jeanette…" Christine choked. "She…she saw me, Meg."

Meg paled and sank down next to Christine. "Oh no…"

Christine let her head drop onto Meg's shoulders as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"Within an hour there won't be a soul in this building who doesn't know."

Christine paused a moment before opening the door to the house on the lake. She took several deep breaths to steady herself, then let the door swing open before her. 

Erik was at her side the moment she entered the foyer, taking her cloak from her as he said, "Are you all right?"

Christine considered saying no…but that wouldn't exactly go over well so she opted for, "Yes, I'm fine."

Christine knew immediately that she had said it too quickly for Erik to find her statement believable.

"What happened?" 

She stared at Erik a moment before taking his hand and saying, "Come, let's not stand in the foyer all day. We should sit down. I'm a little tired from all of those stairs."

Momentarily distracted Erik said, more to himself then to Christine, "Yes, those stairs are becoming a bit of a problem…we can probably work something out…" Shaking his head, not letting the subject drop he demanded, "Are you ill?"

"Oh no, not at all," Christine responded, seating herself and Erik on the divan.

Growing agitated Erik questioned, "Then what? Something is wrong…"

Christine avoided his eyes, instead staring down at his hand, which she still held in hers. Absently, she traced his long fingers, intertwined with hers.

"Christine?" Erik said, in a tone that demanded she look up at him and pay attention to the conversation.

Sighing she met his eyes. "There was a…an incident…" she said slowly.

"Are you hurt?" Erik said, alarmed by her choice of words.

"Oh no," Christine answered immediately. "Don't misunderstand me…it's just…I… was seen…" she said at last, her last few words little more than a whisper.

Erik frowned…but then understood. "Who?" he demanded. 

Christine saw the anger sparking in his eyes. "Erik please, it was an accident. It was all my fault…"

"Who?" he repeated.

"A girl from the corps…" Christine muttered.

Erik remained silent for several moments. It frightened Christine; she wished he would say something! 

"Erik, I'm sorry. It was my fault, I'm a fool. Please, don't be angry," she pleaded.

He turned to her slowly, fire in his eyes. "You have done nothing wrong."

Then he stood and began to walk toward the door.

"Erik, no!" 

Erik turned back to Christine as he put on his hat. "I merely want to keep up with the latest gossip in my opera house, my dear. You have nothing to worry about."

Christine bit her lip, knowing she couldn't stop him. "Fine then, just…don't do anything drastic?"

"Me?" Erik said, turning innocently. "I would never do anything like that…" His tone was light, but she could see in his eyes that he was furious.

Christine sighed, not in the mood for dry humor. But before she could respond he was gone, leaving Christine, knowing that nothing good would come of this. Knowing that by now…everyone knew…

"You actually saw her Jeanette?"

"Where?"

"We didn't see her!"

"Is she really…?"

"Of course she is! Jeanette said she was! Isn't she Jeanette?"

"But who? The vicomte…"

"Exactly!"

Jeanette stood in the dressing room of two members of the corps, Colette and Justine, who shared a room. Jeanette had alerted all the girls she passed that she had the most incredible gossip… Naturally they fell into step behind her as she hurried towards their room. Now six of the ballet rats were bunched in the small room together, desperate for absolute confirmation from Jeanette. They couldn't believe it! Christine Daae was back in the opera house! And with child no less! This was a story not to be missed…

Jeanette ran through her story again, in more detail this time, not that she minded repeating the story again and again…

"Well, I was on my way home. I was passing Meg Giry's dressing room and Christine was standing outside of it! I went up to her to say hello, maybe even ask what she was doing here…but then! I saw her! There is no doubt about it."

Jeanette grinned devilishly at this last statement. It was unbelievable, and she could hardly believe that she was the lucky one to tell this story! She rarely had gossip of her own to share. In just a few minutes she had become the most popular girl in the corps.

Lucille jumped up from the chair she had been sitting in, listening intently, at the moment. "I have to go. I must tell Marie! She'll faint when she hears this!" 

Giggling, she ran out of the room, while the other five girls burst into conversation again. 

"I can't believe this!"

"Of course you can't! Christine Daae! I don't believe it!"

"She was the purest one of us all!" 

The corps burst into hysterical laughter at this. 

"But it's true!" Justine insisted. "Even little Meg had a lover! Don't you remember?"

"What?" Colette exclaimed.

Jeanette laughed a little. "Oh leave her alone. We don't _know_ that he was her lover… Besides that was ages ago Justine!"

"You think so?" Justine asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly telling the girls that she knew something they didn't. 

"Are you serious?" Jeanette cried.

Justine began to giggle uncontrollably. Jeanette followed suit, as did the rest of the girls. 

Colette stopped her laughter then. "Oh forget Meg, Christine Daae is with child and you want to forget her to talk about Meg Giry?"

"She does have a point," Calandre said. "Do you think she's having an affair? She isn't married…is she?"

"No, they would have posted it in the newspaper if the widow of the Vicomte de Chagny were married!" Justine said, with slight disdain.

"Yes, she's not married…and by the looks of it she was with a man not too long after the death of the darling vicomte," Jeanette added.

"Well I think that's terrible."

The girls turned to face Clementina as she spoke. 

"You've been rather quiet Clementina, what do you have to say on the subject?" Justine asked her. 

The ballerina paused, then said, "I don't think its proper to be discussing Christine this way." She turned away then as the girl's looked at her in surprise.

"You can't be serious!" Justine exclaimed. "Don't start to go virtuous on us Clementina, you like a good story as much as the rest of us, admit it!"

"Well…I suppose that is true. But Christine is such a nice, young thing and this is an uncomfortable topic for her I'm sure… She probably didn't want anyone to know."

"Well it's much too late for that," Jeanette said, with a hint of glee in her tone that told them all too well that she was still thrilled with her discovery.

Clementina sighed, "I have to go. You may continue to slander the name of whomever you like."

The dancers watched her leave, halfway between shock and amusement.

"What on earth is the matter with her?" Colette wondered out loud.

"Perhaps she's in a situation similar to our dear Christine," Justine said, grinning deviously.

"Oh you're terrible!" Colette shrieked.

High-pitched giggles filled the room and at this point Erik could stand it no longer.

A/N: All right, sorry about this chapter, I had planned to go into something else, but once those girls start talking they just don't shut up! If I went into the next thing this chapter would be like 20 pages long, so it will have to wait until the next chapter. Thought I'd leave you hanging here just to be evil, lol. Next chapter will be almost all Erik and Christine stuff, so look forward to that! Hoping for shorter update time for next chapter because school's almost over…

And lastly, please please review :) And remember, if there's ever anything you don't like, or something is dragging, please let me know! Thank you all :)


	21. Don't Give Up

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this update took so very long. Erik was refusing to cooperate with me and I was in Bermuda for a week. But I'm back now and the story is being updated! Yay! lol. Now…I know I promised a mostly E/C chapter, but when I wrote it, it just didn't turn out that way… But the massive phluff at one point in this chapter will hopefully make up for it a little, lol. 

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! It means so much to me.

Fantome: Yes, Clementina will be appearing in this chapter…I'm not sure if she'll turn up again, I'll have to see… :)

Midasgirl: I promise no terminal illness for Christine, that would just be terrible wouldn't it? But don't look for her to be especially happy anytime soon…the poor dear :(

Let's see…what else…oh yes, I will bring up "Meg's lover" again…but keep in mind that one of the girl's did say that they weren't positive he was Meg's lover…so it could go either way, you'll all just have to wait and see… :)

Oh…and just to tell you, the name Clementina means "merciful." Get it? lol :P Actually the only reason I picked the name…I don't really like that name personally, lol. 

Wow…I've been babbling for a really long time, I'm going to shut up now and let you read the story…lol. 

Christine is now a week shy of 6 months pregnant…just so you know…

The laughter of the ballerinas died immediately when the room was suddenly plunged into darkness. 

Jeanette screamed, latching herself onto Justine. "What just happened?" she cried.

Justine, not too gently, pried Jeanette off of her arm. "The gas was cut off…"

Calandre had backed herself against the wall, trembling. "You don't think…that he heard us do you?"

For several moments there was absolute silence. Then Jeanette spoke. "Oh my God…we need to get out of here, now." 

She ran for the door, groping for it in the darkness. Unfortunately, Colette had the same idea and shrieks of terror were emitted as the two girls knocked right into each other and fell to the floor.

"He heard us…he heard us…we shouldn't have been talking about Christine!" 

"Calandre, get a grip on yourself!" Justine shouted. "Someone find the door, I hate this darkness!"

Colette had managed to untangle herself from Jeanette and reached the door. She reached for the knob only to find that it wouldn't turn.

"The door won't open! It won't open!" she shrieked.

"What do you mean it won't open? Let me through," Justine said, grabbing the knob herself. She found Colette's statement to be true, the doorknob would not turn. Twisting it harder, she became more frantic and began to bang on the door.

"He heard us!" 

"Stop it, Calandre!" Jeanette cried, and it was evident in her voice that she was on the verge of tears. 

"But he must have! Why did you have to talk about her like that Jeanette?" 

"Me? What about Justine?" 

"Stop it! Both of you!" Justine yelled, fear beginning to creep into her voice. "Let's stay calm, I'm sure there's a reason for this."

"Of course there's a reason!" Colette shouted hysterically. "The Phantom heard us!" 

"I thought I told you to stop that! The Phantom did not hear us!" Justine shouted over the noisy tears that Jeanette had started.

"Are you positive?"

The girls froze as a deep, ghostly voice filled the room. There was silence for a moment before all four girls began to scream. Erik laughed, letting the evil, inhuman sound bounce around the walls and completely fill the room.

Justine banged frantically on the door. "Please! Someone! Help us! Let us out!"

Madame Giry halted on her way to Meg's dressing room at the sound of screams up ahead. She listened for a moment longer… Yes, she had definitely heard screams accompanied by loud knocking.

Frowning she continued down the hallway and the shouts become more distinct. As she moved cautiously forward, she quite clearly heard the voice of Justine, a girl from the corps. Concerned now, Madame Giry set off at a rapid pace, stopping when she met with a chair that was leaned up against a door. Upon further inspection she realized that it was wedged against the doorknob, trapping the girls inside… Eyes widening, she tore the chair away from the door and as she did so Justine nearly fell over as the door swung open at last. The moment it did, the lights flickered back on and the laughter stopped. 

Madame Giry glared at the girls inside the dressing room. "What is going on in here?" 

Calandre, still pressed against the wall, responded first, "We're sorry Madame, we didn't mean to…he heard us."

"Will you stop it, Calandre!" Justine again was forced to yell. She turned to Madame Giry. "Madame, we're sorry, we don't know what happened." 

"It was the ghost!" Colette shouted before she could restrain herself. 

Madame Giry looked over the girl's frightened faces, but was unmoved. Shooting them a look of pure venom she said, "All of you will go home at once. I don't want to hear such nonsense again, do you understand me?"

The girl's nodded quickly before shooting past Madame Giry and running down the hall. Once they were out of sight, Madame Giry stepped inside the room and closed the door.

"Erik?"

For a few moments there was silence, but Madame Giry did not have the patience for Erik's games. "Monsieur, please, I do not wish to play. Why did you trap four girls inside this room?" she asked accusingly.

"Gossip can be a deadly thing, Madame…" Erik said ominously, letting his voice echo off the walls of the room.

Madame Giry sighed, "Erik stop it. What has happened?"

"Gossip can be deadly…" 

Madame Giry stood abruptly as his voice faded away. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest. Erik wouldn't really hurt a member of the corps… The only reason he would have to kill was if someone was… Christine…

"Monsieur…" Madame Giry said quietly. "Please…" She hated to plead with him, but if they knew about Christine…there was no telling what he might do. "They don't know what they're doing, you know that. Please, monsieur."

There was no answer. She knew he was still there. She also knew that he would not speak to her now. Knowing there was nothing else she could do, she turned and left the room, closing the door gently behind her.

Christine didn't move from her place on the divan as Erik entered the house. She sat still and stared thoughtfully at her hands folded in her lap.

She stayed where she was as he hung up his cloak and hat, watching out of the corner of her eye as he collapsed into an armchair.

"Are they all right?" she asked quietly.

Erik leaned back, gripping the ends of the armrests. "For now."

"Please don't say things like that, Erik," Christine responded, flatly and immediately.

Erik chose not to respond to this, knowing he would say something sarcastic that would upset her. He studied her for a moment. Christine still hadn't looked up from her hands and her face was oddly expressionless.

"Are you all right, my dear?" Erik asked, curious of her strange behavior.

She shrugged slightly, still refusing to look up.

Erik frowned, then felt a small prickle of fear… What if she was angry with him? She knew where he had gone… Was she ignoring him now?

Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed. "You're angry with me." 

Christine hesitated a moment, then looked up at him at last. "No…I'm not angry with you…"

He watched as her eyes shifted off of him to gaze over his shoulder. She wouldn't look at him…

Erik stared at her, unable to find something to say, unsure what he should do. He gave up, sitting back and letting the uncomfortable silence engulf them both.

Christine laughed then, a short forced laugh. "I hate this, Erik," she stated, halfway between laughter and tears.

Erik remained silent, sensing she had something more to say, knowing she was steeling herself to speak.

"It's just…I was down here…I was so upset, knowing that everyone up there," she said gesturing vaguely over her head, "knew…about me… I realized how much I didn't want anyone to know. How much…that I don't want any of this." 

She had stopped laughing by now; her voice was steady for the most part although tears rolled down her cheeks in a constant torrent. Erik still remained silent. She didn't seem to notice him or his lack of conversation.

"It's so unfair," she said, exhaustion in her voice. She stared straight ahead, looking at nothing in particular, but her eyes remained focused.

Erik didn't know what to do. Christine's depression and weariness was obvious in her voice. He watched in unmoving silence as silent tears continued to slide down her cheeks. He knew he should go to her, comfort her, but something was keeping him from doing so…

Christine laughed then as she angrily wiped the tears where they gathered at her chin. "I don't know why you put up with me, Erik."

Erik leaned back in his chair, "Yes…you do."

She looked at him at last. Their eyes met for several moments before she hastily looked away. "I think I'm going to go to my room…I'm tired…"

She stood to leave the room, but Erik rose and said, "Christine, wait."

Christine turned to him when he spoke, tears still gliding gracefully down her face. 

"I…" Erik paused, trying to form his words carefully, worried that he might not say this the right way. "I'm…I'm sorry," he said awkwardly. "You shouldn't…have to…this shouldn't have happened to you Christine."

Christine attempted a small smile through her tears, and failed. "But it did Erik, and now it is my problem."

"No, Christine," Erik said immediately. "You are not alone in this."

There was a pause. "I don't deserve you."

Erik was taken aback by this statement. He spent every day thinking that he did not deserve to be with Christine…and she believed it was she who wasn't worthy? Not worthy of him? A monster who lives underground? How could an angel be undeserving?

He turned away, unable to look at her.

Christine sighed, thinking she had done something to offend him. "I'm sorry, Erik," she said quietly.

He turned back around quickly. "For what?" he asked in surprise.

She moved her eyes from the floor and met his gaze. "Well I thought I…said something that…had offended you."

Erik felt as if he would not be able to stand on his own much longer. She had such concern in her eyes…

"No, Christine, you said nothing wrong."

"What's wrong, Erik?" 

Crossing the room in a few long strides, he took Christine into his arms, and she sunk into him gratefully. 

"I always put you first, Christine, always. Your happiness is much more important than mine," he began, speaking into her hair, unable to bear her scrutinizing eyes while he said this. "It's difficult for me…to see you so unhappy everyday. I can't bear the thought that there is nothing I can do for you…"

Tightening her grip on him, she pulled him closer to her. "Erik, you do more for me than I could ever ask for. I am so grateful to you. You had no obligation to take me in the way you did…" 

Erik listened as Christine's voice trailed off; he had nothing more to say. He could feel his throat tightening, suddenly becoming painfully aware of how wonderful it was to hold Christine in his arms. Also becoming painfully aware that she could never be his…

Releasing his grasp on her quickly, he took a few steps back. Christine's shoulders slumped, dismayed at the distance he put between them. Consciously running a hand over her stomach she sighed. The flow of tears that had begun to dry on her cheeks threatened to replenish itself. She couldn't bear it. She couldn't bear Erik constantly pulling away. Common sense told her why he did this. He loved her; she knew that…she was sure of it… She let her hand rest momentarily on her abdomen, wondering if…no, surely  Erik…

Biting her lip, wondering whether to say something, wondering whether to remain silent…knowing that would just cause more frustration and distance between them. But…she couldn't…

Turning rapidly, she set a fast pace and disappeared into her room, leaving Erik to sink into a chair and wonder if anything would ever be right between them.

The next day, Meg sat at her vanity, paper in front of her, pen in hand. But she had abandoned the note she was writing, and was instead pondering whether Christine would ever dare come to see her again. The corps de ballet had talked of almost nothing else but Christine and her…situation since Jeanette so kindly shared that information. Meg was furious with all of them. Justine seemed more subdued. Jeanette seemed unable to speak. Colette had attempted to tell people off for speaking about Christine, but Meg knew this was not out of charity. She knew that Colette just didn't fancy another run-in with ghost. Meg had of course heard about their encounter with the Opera Ghost and fully believed that it served them right. She also believed they didn't get nearly what they deserved…

A knock at the door startled her. Immediately her thoughts jumped to Christine, she doubted somewhat whether Christine would be back so soon, if she planned to return at all…

Meg placed her hand on the knob and forced a smile on her face before opening the door to find Clementina standing outside of the room.

Struggling to keep the smile on her face, but failing miserably Meg said, "Hello Clementina. What brings you here?" 

"May I come in?" Clementina asked timidly, shifting her eyes, unwilling to face Meg's glare.

"I suppose…" Meg said. She stepped aside and Clementina entered. Meg couldn't believe she had just let a gossiping member of the corps into her dressing room.

Meg closed the door slowly, trying to collect herself before turning to face the ballerina behind her. 

Turning, Meg opened her mouth to say something, but Clementina spoke first. 

"I just wanted you to know that I feel terrible about Christine and I think it's evil that the girls talk about her so," she said quickly, as if expecting Meg to interrupt her.

Meg's surprise at this statement showed on her face. Stuttering she responded, "Why…thank you…I...I'm sorry Clementina. When you showed up here I assumed you were just like them. That you…wanted me to tell you more…or…I don't know. I guess it was stupid of me to think you would be like them." 

Clementina smiled in obvious relief that Meg was not angry with her. "It's dreadful really," she said, sitting down hesitantly on the divan she had been standing in front of. "I can imagine what Christine is going through…and to have the corps talking about her on top of that."

"You can?" Meg asked curiously. 

"Oh yes," Clementina said quietly. "Of course, I don't know what happened to Christine…but my sister, Marie, was…with child when she was only…a year or two older than I. She had been married…her husband…left her…" Clementina finished uncomfortably, not quite sure why she was disclosing this information to Meg.

Meg sat down next to her. "What happened?" 

Clementina glanced at her, and seeing the genuine concern in her eyes, continued. "Well…she had the baby of course. A boy, she named him Charles. It was hard for her. People talked… Of course, that was nothing compared to how gossip spreads around here," she said, gesturing slightly with her hand. "I was there when Jeanette first told us," she continued quietly. "I want you to know that…I told them I didn't think they should talk about Christine that way…"

Meg smiled at her. "Thank you, that means a lot, to me and I will tell Christine that."

"Do you talk to her often?"

"Usually," Meg said. "Although…I'm not sure when she'll be coming back to visit me."

"Well…when you see her again," Clementina said carefully. "Tell her that I'm sorry and…and I hope she's all right."

"I'll do that," Meg promised.

While Meg had sat pondering a letter she had to write…Christine could be found many floors below, doing the exact same thing. At long last she had decided what to write, stuffed the note into an envelope and sealed it shut. 

Taking the letter up, she rose and walked out of the room in search of Erik. She noticed the door to his study was closed, so she went to it and knocked quietly. After a moment the door opened. Christine didn't meet Erik's eyes; they had not spoken since their encounter the day before. Breakfast had been taken in complete silence. Aware that she was being rather bold in requesting something…she took a deep breath and looked up at him. He didn't seem angry with her…this she was glad of.

"Erik, would you…I mean if you wouldn't mind…could you take this to Madame Giry for me?" Christine asked timidly, holding up the envelope for him to see. 

He looked at her for a moment before taking the letter from her. "Of course," he answered simply.

He strode past her and she had just enough time to thank him before he was out the door. Christine sighed and went to sit on the divan and wait for the response she hoped Madame Giry would send with Erik. Oh she wished she could just go see Madame Giry herself…but she didn't have the courage to go up there… It would be for the best to wait for it to die down. She knew that she was a coward and that the corps would probably call her such, but she didn't care. Christine would not go up there just to be followed and gawked at wherever she went.

Erik made his way through the passages quickly, relieved that Christine had spoken to him. He found Madame Giry easily. She was in her office, rehearsals had stopped for lunch, but Erik knew Madame Giry rarely took advantage of these breaks to rest. 

"May I have a word with you Madame?" 

Madame Giry jumped as Erik's voice echoed through her office. His words from yesterday were still running through her mind, but it didn't seem as though he was planning to any harm to the girls from the corps…he hadn't done so yet…

"Of course, monsieur," she said, standing.

A moment later he appeared in her office. He went to her and silently handed her the letter.

Madame Giry frowned, curious. Breaking the seal she read through the letter quickly. Erik watched her frown deepen and in spite of himself, wondered what the note contained.

After a few moments, Madame Giry folded it quickly and placed it on her desk.

"Well, it seems I have been invited to your abode, at my earliest convenience," she said, glancing at the letter.

Erik shrugged indifferently, "If it is Christine's wish." He paused, "Not that you are unwelcome in my home." 

She eyed him, wondering why he had said that. Perhaps he was sorry for frightening her the day before…Well, it didn't matter now.

"You may tell her I can be there tomorrow…is four o'clock to your convenience?" she asked, aware that she should receive Erik's permission before setting a time.

"Yes, yes, that's fine," he said. It was evident that he had other things on his mind then what time she would be arriving.

"Are you all right, monsieur?" Madame Giry asked carefully.

She immediately regretted her words. Erik glared at her, "Why wouldn't I be all right?" he asked furiously. 

Madame Giry sighed. "I'm sorry, monsieur. I was just concerned…"

"You needn't be concerned, Madame, I'm perfectly fine."

Madame Giry wondered how he had the audacity to tell such lies. 

When she remained silent, Erik turned to go, but right before stepping out the door he changed his mind. Not facing her he said, "You will tell me…if she's not all right?" 

"Of course, monsieur," Madame Giry said, without hesitation.

"Thank you Madame Giry."

"Erik?"

He stopped again and turned to face her.

"Try not to worry too much, I'm sure she's fine."

Erik turned back around, but she saw him nod slowly before he was gone.

Christine was on the divan, absently rubbing her temple, when Erik returned. Her head was pounding, but she didn't feel that Erik should be disturbed with this information at the moment.

Christine watched him hang his cloak and hat in the foyer, waiting anxiously for him to tell her what Madame Giry had said. 

She didn't need to ask, as he entered the sitting room he said, "Madame Giry will be paying us a visit tomorrow at four o'clock."

Christine's disappointment showed obviously on her face. She'd have to wait until tomorrow…

"Christine?"

She looked up at Erik who stood nervously next to the divan.

"You would…you would tell me if there was something…seriously wrong…wouldn't you?" 

Christine's heart melted as he said this. He cared for her so much…she wanted to cry. 

"Yes Erik," she said softly. "Of course I would." But as she said this she nervously ran her hand over her temple. 

Erik stood awkwardly for a moment, before nodding. "Good."

And with that he strode into his bedroom and closed the door. Christine watched him go and as the door clicked shut she let her face fall into her hands and she sat, weeping silently.

A/N: Please Review! :)


	22. Open Arms

A/N: All right everyone. My deepest apologies for the incredibly long wait. This chapter was so incredibly difficult to write. So for awhile I gave up on it completely. Yes, it was extremely frustrating, and it's finally finished and I am so unbelievably happy. I just hope that you all will deem it acceptable as I am still not all that fond of it. Although I might just hate it because it caused me so much trouble, lol. So yes, hopefully it won't be terrible and you guys will like it a little…

Thank you all so much for your reviews! I got so many for my last chapter and I couldn't be happier. Thank you so much. And because I'm so happy this chapter is going up at last, everyone gets their name listed in the Author's Note today! :) Huge thanks to The Phantom Parisienne, Jenny, florence, Badly Drawn Girl, Phantomgurl33, Freya, musicallover6, Jstarz927, Erin, Katherine Silverhair, draegon-fire, Fantome, Diva Mama, Miranda7911, and Midasgirl (who I was very happy to see review at last :)) And special thanks to Riene for listening to me complain about this chapter for so very long. :P You all are wonderful.

And now it's story time at long last. :)

Promptly at four o'clock, Erik left the house to help Madame Giry across the lake. Christine was left alone, her mind racing. She went over again in her head what she was going to say. She had been up most of the night trying to decide what it was she wanted to convey. 

Christine's thoughts stopped abruptly as the sound of the front door opening met her ears. She stood quickly and watched Madame Giry and Erik enter the house. Erik offered her a seat with a wave of his hand and disappeared into his study without speaking. Christine watched him sadly for a few moments before turning her attention to Madame Giry who still stood just behind her.

Madame Giry smiled kindly, "How are you Christine?" 

Christine seemed to consider this question for a moment, before answering, "I am well enough. Please, sit down."

Madame Giry sat down, as did Christine. She remained silent, waiting for Christine to speak, knowing she had been brought here for a reason.

"Madame I…" Christine began, but faltered. "I…hope it wasn't an inconvenience for you to come here today."  
  


"No, it was no trouble… Is everything all right Christine?"

"You know it isn't."

Madame Giry raised her eyebrows at this blunt remark.

Christine lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry Madame, but…"

"It's all right to be frightened, Christine."

Christine looked up as Madame Giry took her hand and smiled kindly.

"I try not to be," she whispered. "I wish I could be as strong as Erik, but I'm not and never will be." She paused for a moment. "It's so hard, Madame. Sometimes I can't bear to be in this house. Is that shameful of me?" she asked fearfully.

"No, Christine. This is a difficult time for you…"

Christine nodded slowly. "I feel like I'm constantly hurting him. Just looking at me must be painful for him."

"He loves you Christine," Madame Giry said. "He hates to see you unhappy."

"And that's all I've been. But he can't honestly expect me to be happy," Christine sighed. 

"He's upset because he can't do anything to help you," Madame Giry explained, softly.

Christine looked up at Madame Giry incredulously, then sighed. "He doesn't understand, he just can't understand how much he helps me…he doesn't know what he means to me."

"What does he mean to you?" Madame Giry asked suddenly.

"Please Madame, don't make me discuss that now," Christine said, flushing slightly.

Madame Giry lifted Christine's chin and looked directly into her eyes. "What are you afraid of Christine?" 

Christine felt her eyes filling with tears as Madame Giry continued to stare at her questioningly. Christine could feel her throat closing as she choked, "I loved my fiancé very much, Madame."

Madame Giry melted at the sight of Christine burying her face in her hands. She pulled the young woman into a comforting hug. "I'm sorry, Christine."

Christine clung to Madame Giry, ashamed of her tears, but unable to quell them. Although for a moment Christine nearly forgot who she was crying for.

After a few minutes Christine rose, uncomfortable that she had broken down. She had tried to prepare herself to stay calm during this interview… "Forgive me, Madame," she muttered, wiping the last of her tears.

"It's all right, Christine. I know his death was terrible for you."

Christine sighed. "Something else to cause Erik pain…"

"He knows you loved him," Madame Giry said calmly. "As much as he doesn't want to think of it. But…" Madame Giry paused, unsure of how Christine might react to her next statement. "Loving Erik does not mean you have betrayed the Vicomte, Christine."

Looking at her hands, she said softly, "But…but surely Raoul would be furious if he knew I was with Erik."

"Child, look around you," Madame Giry said. "Here you are cared for, safe, and much happier than you would be alone. Wouldn't the Vicomte want that for you?" 

"Yes…" Christine answered timidly, but sure of her answer.

"You have every right to try to be happy again, to continue your life…with Erik, if you choose."

Christine paused and ran a hand over her face briefly. "Erik… He means the world to me, Madame. He has become… Sometimes it's like he's my best friend. But then, we have these times…when it seems we can't speak to each other."

Christine placed her hand on her stomach and looked into Madame Giry's eyes. "I don't want to mention it. I don't want him to have to think about it any more than he has to… But soon, we're going to have to stop ignoring it and face the truth. I'm going to have a child…" Her voice broke and tears threatened her again. "I know…that I'm going to have to leave this house. He knows it as well." Christine looked away, blinking back the water, now pooling in her eyes. "I don't want to leave him, Madame. But what choice do I have?"

"Oh Christine," Madame Giry began. She couldn't stand the injustice of Christine's suffering. She was just a child… "You have been through so much in this past year. More than anyone so young should have to struggle through. You must be strong, Christine."

The young woman nodded, swallowing hard. "But what will I do, Madame? I can't just leave Erik…"

"You care for him," Madame Giry ventured.

"Of course I do," Christine said immediately.

"And you wish to live with him?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Christine flushed and looked away.

"Christine, listen to me," Madame Giry said. "You cannot be with him in this manner forever."

"Why can't I?" Christine demanded, raising her voice.

"Because you're tormenting him!" Madame Giry nearly shouted, getting to her feet.

"Would it not be more painful if I just left him?" Christine asked loudly, rising off the divan as well.

"At least then he would know where he stands," Madame Giry countered.

Christine glared at the older woman for a moment, before clapping her hand over her mouth and turning away quickly.

"Oh…God, forgive me, Madame. Please…I'm sorry. Forgive me…" she pleaded, burying her face in her hands.

Madame Giry paused briefly, before stepping forward and placing her hands gently on Christine's shoulders. "I have known Erik for a long time, Christine. His life has not been easy."

"I'm aware of that," Christine said bitterly, although her tone was not directed entirely toward Madame Giry

"Do you wish to do that to him, Christine? Do you want to tell him that you wish to live with him, but want nothing between you? Do you realize what that would do to him? What it's already doing to him?"

"Tell me what to do…" Christine said softly. She sounded so young, so lost. 

Madame Giry turned her gently to face her again. "You have a child to consider," she said quietly. "You will have to stay with us when the time comes. You'll have to obtain a flat of your own when your child is a little older… Oh my dear," Madame Giry, "you realize what this means."

Christine gave up trying to hold back her tears. She tried to imagine herself…with a child. She was going to be a mother. She was going to be tied to this child for the rest of her life. She was going to be separated from Erik… Christine heard a soft whimper escape from her, before she collapsed heavily on the divan. 

"Erik…" she whispered.

Madame Giry bit her lip, holding back tears of her own. Christine's distress was so great, it seemed to radiate throughout the room.

"Do you want to talk to him, Christine?" 

Christine couldn't speak. She opened and closed her mouth several times, gasping for air. At last she nodded. She had understood the question… But her mind seemed utterly numb. She couldn't think straight. Her thoughts weren't connected. 

Madame Giry cast a lingering look at Christine, before walking to the door of Erik's study and knocking softly. The door opened almost immediately. Erik registered the look on Madame Giry's face and moved his eyes over her head toward Christine, seated on the divan. She stared straight ahead, a look of mingled sadness and horror pasted on her face. 

Erik felt his heart quicken and he turned his attention back to Madame Giry. "What is it?" he asked urgently. 

"Erik," Madame Giry said calmly. "You need to talk with her. You need to keep yourself controlled. She is very upset right now and you need to help her." 

Madame Giry paused. Erik searched her expression frantically. He was beginning to panic. If something happened to Christine…

"She's frightened, Erik. Christine is going to be a mother," she said, quietly. "She doesn't want to lose you."

Erik stared at her for a moment, not sure of what to say to her. 

"I'm going now, Erik," she continued. "Please, be calm, she needs that of you right now."

Madame Giry hesitated a moment, then touched his arm briefly before turning on her heel and leaving the house on the lake entirely. Erik and Christine were left alone.

Erik walked cautiously towards where Christine was seated. She noticed his presence and turned her head to look up at him. Her expression showed such sadness…Erik felt as though a sword had been thrust into his stomach. 

He realized then that he didn't know what to say to her. "Christine…" he began, struggling for words.

She rose slowly to her feet, then without warning, ran the last few feet between them and threw her arms around his neck. Erik closed his eyes and held onto her tightly as she began to sob into his shoulder.

"Please Erik," she choked. "I don't want to lose you. Please don't leave me."

"Never," Erik responded, knowing that Madame Giry was right, he had to remain calm. 

"Promise me, Erik!" Christine was hysterical. She didn't think about what she said or what she was doing. All she knew was that she wanted to be in Erik's arms and never, ever let go.

"I promise," Erik said, keeping his voice calm and soothing. But it was no use, Christine would not be calmed. 

"Erik I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I have to leave you!" She tightened her grip on him. "I don't want this child, Erik! I want to be with you, always! I'm sorry," she continued. Her words almost lost amongst her sobs, but not to Erik who heard every word quite clearly.

"We will not be separated, Christine," he said, a hint of fierceness in his voice. 

He winced slightly, feeling Christine's fingernails digging into his back. He was growing anxious. She was so desperate, so hysterical. She could be hurting herself…

"Christine," he said softly. Slowly he eased himself out of her fierce embrace. 

"No!" she cried, trying to wrap herself around him again.

"Christine, listen," he said calmly. He held tightly to her hands as she continued to sob. "Calm down, child. It will be all right."

"How will it be all right?" she shrieked.

Erik knew he had to calm her before she really did do herself harm. Slowly, he brought his arms around her. He held her as if she were made of the most delicate glass and began to rock her gently. After a moment he began to sing, very quietly. It was a lullaby. A soothing melody that poured forth from Erik's mouth effortlessly. Eventually Christine began to relax. She slumped against him. She could shed no more tears and was left hiccupping in his embrace. Erik felt her go limp in his arms. With a sweeping motion he carefully lifted her up and carried her to her bedroom, continuing the song as he went. Her eyes were closed, but she wrapped her arms around his neck. Erik carried her into the Louis-Phillipe room and placed her carefully on the bed.

Christine opened her eyes a little as he did so. "Don't leave me, Erik," she muttered. 

Erik paused for a moment, indecisively. "I'm here, Christine," he said, sinking into her bedside chair. 

Christine felt him sit down and held out her hand to him. He took it and covered it with his other hand. She fell asleep almost immediately after that, having utterly exhausted herself. Erik remained with her for a long time, softly humming the same lullaby.

He woke the next morning to find them both, relatively in the same position, with one exception. Christine's eyes were wide open, and she was staring straight at Erik. He quickly sat up in the chair, withdrawing his hand from hers. It was odd that she would wake before him. 

For several moments, they simply looked at each other. Erik waiting for Christine to make the first move. At last, she propped herself up on her elbow. Avoiding Erik's eyes she said, "I apologize for my behavior last night."

She looked back at Erik, "Please don't look at me like that, and please don't say, it's all right. It isn't all right. I behaved shamefully last night and I'm sorry."

Erik marveled at the incredible maturity Christine was putting forth. Seeing her now, it was unbelievable that she had been screaming and sobbing the night before. She sat up then, exhaustion in her every move. 

"I have a responsibility, Erik. I forgot that, I was being selfish and childish. And…I hope you will forgive me," she finished. 

He searched her face for a moment, in some state of disbelief. He could hardly believe how old she looked then. Forgive her? It had already been done. "Of course, Christine," Erik said at last.

She sighed softly in obvious relief. 

"Are you hungry?" he asked her, desperate to make the conversation light before the situation became awkward. 

"Very," she answered, smiling gratefully.

Erik stood stiffly and offered her his hand. He helped her off of the bed and waited as she went to the wardrobe to retrieve a pair of slippers. After struggling with them for a moment she sighed. "I need new ones. My feet are swollen…" she murmured, mostly to herself. She abandoned them, and left the room barefoot. Erik followed closely behind her.

They went into the kitchen together. Christine sat down, watching Erik's every move. He pretended that he didn't notice that she was staring at him, but he began to grow very agitated under her gaze.

Unable to bear it any longer, he turned to face her. "Do you find something about me fascinating, my dear?"

Christine removed her eyes from him quickly. "I'm sorry, Erik. I didn't mean to stare."

Erik raised an eyebrow, but turned back around and said nothing.

"What will we do, Erik?" Christine asked suddenly.

Erik paused for a moment, but did not turn to look at her. "I don't know what you mean, my dear."

Christine sighed, realizing that Erik was going to be difficult. "In less then three months I'm going to have a child, Erik," she said frankly.

Erik dropped the knife in his hand and gripped the top of the counter before him. 

"I have to leave at that time," she continued carefully.

"Yes, you'll have to, I suppose," Erik answered stiffly.

"What are we going to do?" 

Erik sighed wearily. "Forgive me, my dear, but I fail to see where I come into all of this."

"I don't want to leave you," she said quietly.

"We both know you cannot remain here. Once you leave, I have no proper reason to see you again."

Christine opened her mouth in shock. She realized what a terrible thing it would be. To never see Erik again…

"You don't mean that, Erik," Christine said softly.

Erik inhaled sharply and turned to face her at last. "Exactly what are you referring to, Christine? You cannot stay here and I cannot leave. It's rather simple."

Christine glared at him for a moment before standing abruptly and storming out of the room. 

Erik watched her go. He took a deep shuddering breath and proceeded to go after her. It would do no good for them to stop speaking to each other now. Walking into the sitting room he saw her, collapsed on the divan, her arm hanging over the armrest and her face hidden.

Without saying a word he sat down in his chair and looked at her calmly. Christine knew he was there and didn't raise her head. "Are you going to talk to me now?" she asked, her voice slightly muffled.

"Well, it would be an easier conversation if I knew what sort of solution you were looking for," Erik said evenly.

Christine clenched her teeth briefly before raising her head to look directly at Erik. "I want us to be together."

"Ah yes, I understand that, my dear. What I don't understand," he said, leaning forward slightly, "…is why."

Christine sighed and looked away from him, "Why must you act like this?" she muttered.

Erik chose not to comment. He continued to stare at her, waiting for an answer.

She lay still on the divan for a few minutes, still draped over the armrest. At last, she looked directly at Erik and said, "You couldn't live without me."

Erik felt his stomach lurch, but kept his eyes expressionless. He couldn't believe that Christine was attempting to turn the conversation towards him. 

Erik rose to her challenge gracefully. "I hardly think that my wants should play into this matter."

Christine sat up when he said this. "Why shouldn't they?" she questioned honestly.

Erik laughed outright at this, but stopped when he saw the look of incredible sadness that had settled on Christine's face.

"Please don't laugh, Erik. Why shouldn't your feelings matter?" She slid off the divan at this and settled herself at his feet. Taking his hand she said, "You are my closest friend and I care for you. I want us both to be happy."

He stared into her eyes, not even attempting to hide his shock. No one had ever cared about what he wanted…what he felt. He didn't matter, he never had. But suddenly, someone cared. And it was Christine. His angel, the one person he would do anything for. The woman he loved, wanted him to be happy. She cared for him…

Christine stared at him, suddenly feeling an overwhelming desire to take him into her arms, to show him how much she did truly care for him. She bit her lip then, wondering how far she dared to carry this conversation. Taking a deep breath, she decided that she couldn't hold back any longer… She had to…

"You love me, Erik?" 

He looked at her, searching her eyes before answering with the least amount of emotion he could manage, "Of course." 

"Do you…" Christine paused, knowing this question would most likely upset him. "Do you think I love you?" 

A very uncomfortable silence followed this question. Erik's gaze shifted off of her and he had tensed a great deal. But despite this, Christine wanted to wait for an answer.

At last, after what felt like hours to Christine, Erik spoke. "Sometimes I want to believe that…" he said softly, feeling painfully vulnerable as he shared some of his feelings with Christine. "…even though I know it can't be true."

Erik's gaze had moved to the armrest of the chair he sat in. Christine stared at him intensely until he had no choice but to look back at her. "Why can't it be true?" she whispered.

"Why are you doing this, Christine?" he asked, begging her to stop. 

She could see tears forming in his eyes, but anyway she chose to tell him, this conversation would be painful and difficult. And she wanted to know…

"Erik, won't you answer me?" she said, determination attempting to mask the apology in her eyes. 

"I want to believe you do, Christine. I want to believe it's true. That someone could love me…" Erik stopped himself, he had said too much. Why was he saying all of this? Why was he telling this to Christine? He despised himself at that moment. He was weak and his incredible weakness was bared for Christine to see. 

But before he could say anything to try to redeem himself, Christine had stood and wrapped his arms around him. He threw his arms around her, pulling her down to him, clinging to her desperately, pleading with her to stop this torment.  After a moment he realized that she was crying. Another moment had passed before he realized that he was crying as well.

Christine turned her head, and Erik could feel her warm breath on his ear. 

"I do love you so, Erik."  

And this was too much for him. His tears came in earnest now, he could not bear this. He was being toyed with. She had strung him up and was now taking her swing at him. 

"Christine…" Erik choked, trying to form something to say through his tears

At last, Erik felt he had somewhat regained control of his senses. He noted his masked face buried in Christine's hair, he noticed Christine on his lap… The indecency of it all struck him then and he gently withdrew from her embrace. Carefully he placed his hands on her waist and lifted her up. She sank back down to the ground at his feet, while Erik covered his eyes with his hand, his elbow on the armrest.

Christine bit her lip, on the verge of tears at Erik's distress. She struggled to remain silent, to give him a moment to think, but she could not stop herself for long.

"Erik?" she asked timidly, placing her hand on his knee.

He remained silent and she swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry, Erik. I know that I've…" she paused, trying to find the right word and failing," …shocked you. But how could you think that I wouldn't care about you?" 

He let out his breath sharply, in almost a laugh. "You could never understand, Christine."

She lowered her eyes, "I'm sorry, Erik. I try to understand." Christine looked up at him again. "But I don't understand is why you can't see what's right in front of you."

When he didn't respond, she was forced to continue. "I do love you so, Erik. I know every part of you is telling your mind not to believe it. Not to trust me… But it is the truth, Erik."

Erik could not stand sitting still any longer as emotion surged through him. He stood up abruptly, as did Christine to allow him to move about the room. He settled himself at a comfortable distant from her and spoke at last. 

"I would not lie to you," Christine pressed.

"You have before, my dear," he sighed.

"And so have you, Angel," she shot back, immediately.

He chuckled softly and turned his back to her. "Touché." __

"Please, Erik…" she began, but he cut her off.

"And tell me, my dear, what of your devotion to the Vicomte?" he said smoothly.

The question struck Christine and she felt a spark of anger. Glaring at Erik's back she said fiercely, "I loved him very much and I always will. Do not presume that I will deny that for you, Erik."

She knew that she should stop there, but she couldn't. Erik had made her angry. He had no right to question her about Raoul.

"Look at me," she demanded.

Erik turned around, crossing his arms and staring at her icily.

"You told us to go," Christine said, her voice shaking slightly. "You told us to go so I could be happy, didn't you?" 

Erik made no response, but Christine continued as if he had. "Do you still want me to be happy?" 

He paused, not in hesitation, but in fear of revealing too much emotion while she was trying to wear him down. "More than anything," he said evenly.

"Then do something for me," she said, walking to him and taking his hands.

"And what is it you want me to do?" he asked, knowing that she had him. Knowing he would not refuse any request she made.

"I would like to say, believe me…but I know that you can't seem to do that yet. So…just be with me…always…

And she crossed to him and gently wrapped her arms around his neck. He closed his eyes and brought his arms around her. He held her gently, but Christine clung to him, wishing she never had to leave his embrace.

Erik let out a shuddering breath. Despite the overall situation, despite the tumultuous thoughts in his head, he suddenly felt so very…content. Christine warm and alive in his arms, her breath on his neck, her hair brushing against his chin. His desire for her, the intense love he always had for her…the feelings he had buried for her sake, were emerging swiftly and he could hardly bear it. He could never let her go… 

"We'll find a way, Christine."

A/N: And there it is. It's finally finished, it's finally up, and you've all finally gotten the chance to read it! Thank you for your patience! Next chapter will not take so long as it is really already finished, so you won't have to wait an entire month again! Again, I'm very sorry for the delay.

As always, Please Review! :) Thank you very much!


	23. What You Never Know

A/N: Thank you so much to my reviewers… You guys are so fantastic, I'm so glad everyone felt so positively about that last chapter. Made me very happy :) 

Riene: Your words always mean a lot to me. And I managed not to fuss over this chapter, lol :P

Jstarz927: Actually…the chapter's beginning to grow on me thanks to all these reviews, lol. :)

Midasgirl: Thank you so much for your review. It's such a thrill for me that you have such kind words in regards to this story. I really appreciate them. :)

Christina: Thank for your note! That was very kind of you :)

To the most awesome people ever, thank you very much: The Phantom Parisienne, Mel, Fantome, Jennifer, Badly Drawn Girl, mystic darkness, and musicallover6 

All right, announcement… This chapter is for the most part completely pointless. There's a lot of Meg, so if you're a fan of her, hopefully you'll be pleased. So yes, after the intense E/Cness of last chapter…this one is lacking. But, the next chapter will be exciting, so sit tight. So yes, here is the next, sort of pointless, sort of random chapter. Enjoy :)

Meg stood just outside the opera in her dancer's garb and ballet shoes. She glanced inside nervously, then looked ahead of her again. Her eyes swept over the crowds of people and carriages bustling past. The sun was climbing steadily and Meg knew she had to get to rehearsal soon. There was not a performance that night, but that did not mean the corps had the day off…

At last Meg saw the person whom she sought. She raised her hand and waved, to make sure he would see her. Meg watched him smile and push his way past a group of people heading down the street. At last he reached her and she couldn't help but smile as well.

"I'm glad you could get here," she said.

"Well somehow, this found it's way to my front door," he said, holding up a piece of paper; a note Meg had written to him. 

"I can't talk for very long," Meg said. "But I had to see you."

The young man frowned. "Are you all right, Meg?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine… And I'm sorry we have to meet like this, but I had to speak with you." She took his hands in her hers. "I feel terrible, Vincent. I haven't seen you for so long," her voice trailed off and she looked down at the ground. She couldn't meet his eyes…those soft brown eyes that radiated such comfort and warmth…

Vincent lifted her chin with his fingers, forcing her to look at him. "You don't believe that I'm angry, do you?" he asked.

"No…I know you're not angry…" Meg paused and the corners of her mouth rose slightly. "Although…sometimes I wish you would be. How can you be so patient with me?" 

"Because I care for you, dove," he said softly.

Meg gave in and smiled. "We will see each other more often, I promise," Meg stated with new determination. 

Vincent brought his fingers up and gently brushed her cheek. "Tomorrow…" he murmured.

"Tomorrow," Meg agreed softly. "You will come for the performance?" 

"Of course," he conceded and bent to plant a kiss on her forehead.

"Meg?" 

Meg turned her head abruptly and looked in the door. Clementina was just inside poking her head around the corner a little way off from the door. Meg stuck her head inside and called to her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Oh there you are," Clementina said. "Your mother has been looking for you and rehearsal is going to start in just a few minutes."

Meg nodded. "I'll just be a minute."

Meg turned back to Vincent anxiously. "I must go."

He nodded. "I know…"

"Please don't look at me like that…" Meg said sadly. "I will see you tomorrow." She touched his cheek briefly and gazed into his eyes before turning and disappearing through the door.

Vincent stared after her for a moment. "Tomorrow…"

Christine stood facing her door, her fingers resting on the doorknob, willing herself to leave her room. She had risen early that morning, despite the fact that she had had such trouble falling asleep. She wasn't sure how long it was that she had stared up at the ceiling. Christine had realized something… She had realized that her thoughts…her emotions…had done nothing but contradict each other since the moment she had first heard Erik's voice… She knew that she loved Erik. She would not have told him so if she had not been absolutely certain and committed to that decision. Christine knew that she could never forget Raoul… Never stop loving him. She was afraid what Erik thought. She did know of widows who remarried… Surely they did not forget the people they used to love… And she had not even been married, so really there was nothing to be concerned about…

For a long time she felt terrible. She couldn't bear to think of the reaction Raoul would show if he heard her tell Erik she loved him… And Erik… He knew that she still thought about Raoul, he wasn't blind and she had told him so. But it must hurt him. And she couldn't bear to hurt him any longer.

But the terrible feeling she had melted away with her thoughts of Erik. He was so good to her… He loved her so very much, cared for her, was willing to do anything she asked. She did love him so very much. She felt it, every time she looked at him, every time he entered the room. The flutter in her stomach, the intense ache in her chest, the warmth that spread through her veins when she touched him, the tears that could be caused by the simple sight of him… Raoul was gone and Erik was hers…

These thoughts came tumbling back as Christine stood before her door that morning. She had to go out there and have a real conversation, try to act normally. The day before was a blur. They had been together. They had read…just sat…he may have played the violin. She was with him and that had been all she had thought about. It was different being with him yesterday…better. She had been happy. But now she didn't know what to expect, exactly.  At last, taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and entered the sitting room. It was empty…

Her heart sunk as she imagined that Erik could not bear to face her with the raw emotion of the day before gone and civility returning… But she smiled softly when she heard the faint melody of the grand piano in the library drifting into the room. 

She went to the door and listened. Christine was happy to hear him playing. It felt to her like a good sign…

Knocking quietly on the door, she slipped inside the library and sat down in a chair near the piano. Erik didn't look at her, but continued playing, ending the piece a minute or so later.

"Good morning," he said softly, not looking at her and not removing his fingers from the keys. "Did you sleep well?"

Christine nearly laughed. "Hardly…"

Erik smiled softly. He was still not willing to look at her. If truth were told…he was almost frightened…almost… He didn't know what Christine wanted of him. She had said she loved him… And if that were true, the way he had always dreamed it would be true…then what? He had never prepared for this moment… Never thought about the possibility… Erik had had the sense to know she would never love him the way he loved her… But perhaps she would prove him wrong after all… Or perhaps she would betray him again. Although that seemed nearly a foreign possibility after the time they had shared together.

Christine stared at him and could read his thoughts. His unspoken questions and uncertainties seemed to hang thick in the air. She stared at him for a moment, knowing that she had to say something… She stood up and went to him, seating herself beside him on the piano bench. After a moment's hesitation, she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Can I tell you something?" she asked.

"Of course," Erik said softly.

"Someday Erik, "she said, with all the sincerity she could muster. "I would be pleased to be your wife."

Erik turned his head and stared at her, for minutes he was uncomprehending of her statement. "Someday…" he repeated, dumbly.

Christine lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "Someday, Erik. If you would ask me someday… I would accept."

Erik stared at her. He suddenly felt quite dizzy; it was happening too fast, his emotions could hardly keep up. He felt his throat tighten painfully and looked away from her quickly.

"I could ask for nothing more."

"Someday Erik," Christine said, linking her arm with his. "We will be very happy, no matter what."

"Someday…" he repeated, his mind and other senses feeling rather numb.

Christine suddenly exhaled sharply and stood up.

Erik frowned at her, concerned. "Christine?" 

She stood with her back to him her arms crossed. "What am I saying? I can't honestly think that you would wish me to be your wife…"

Erik's brow creased and he stood and went to her, turning her around to face him. He searched her face.

"Erik, I can't expect you to care for a child that is not yours… I don't expect that… I don't want that," she finished firmly. 

This was truly the moment that, under different circumstances, the two of them could have finally had some peace, some happiness…together. But a child that had not even been born yet was tearing them apart. A child that wasn't planned…wasn't wanted.

Christine closed her eyes, desperately fighting the urge to collapse into Erik's arms yet again. She felt his hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes. She forced a slight smile and carefully lifted his hand away, knowing better then to jerk away from his touch. 

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I…have to…I'm going out," she said at last. 

Erik frowned, "Where?" 

"Just for a walk. I won't be gone long…"

Erik paused for a moment and decided to express his concern. "I don't want you to run out of here while you're upset, Christine."

"I'm fine, really," she responded, already backing out of the room. "I just…I need to get out, Erik. I'll return shortly."

And she turned and nearly ran from the room. Erik watched her go, sinking down onto the hard, wooden piano bench. He sighed… He hated himself. He was supposed to be a genius with a solution to everything, and now he had no answer to one of the biggest problems he'd ever had to face. To have her as his wife… He truly began to wonder if they were really meant to be together at all… There was always something pulling them apart.

Christine nearly ran from the library and into her room to once again attempt to fit her feet into a pair of shoes. But to her surprise, there were two pairs of new shoes in her wardrobe that Erik had obviously purchased for her during the night. She nearly cried when she saw them… He cared about her so…

Christine emerged from the Opera through the Rue Scribe entrance to the basements, blinking in the sunlight. It was hotter than she had expected it to be, so hot it sent a chill through her and she shivered. She was just then very grateful for her home in the fifth cellar that the heat of the summer could not reach. __

She stood still for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the bright sun, then began walking. There was a park she often went to with Meg, or sometimes by herself, that was lovely at this time of year. The trees so green, and flowers in full bloom… She made her way swiftly, looking downwards. She felt as if she would burst into tears any moment and did not need to advertise that fact to every person she passed.

She reached the park in a short amount of time; she hadn't realized how quickly she had been walking. A tall iron gate stood at the front and she walked through its open doors. There were many people strolling along the paths and children playing. Christine hurried past them all.

At last she reached a tall oak tree that stood far from the entrance and many yards away from the path. It was the most secluded spot she could find. Collapsing under the tree in a rather unladylike manner, she drew her knees up to her chin and buried her face. 

But as she did this, she found that she could not cry. No tears would come, even though she felt so terrible she felt as if she could die right then and there. It wasn't fair… Why did this happen to her? There were thousands of people in the world, after all. How was it that so many terrible things could befall her in particular? It was so unfair… 

For what seemed an eternity, but was really only a matter of minutes, Christine stared into her skirt, her eyes dry. She wanted to cry, but just couldn't. 

"Are you all right, there?" a voice asked.

Christine looked up, startled at being disturbed. Standing over her was a girl about her age, a little younger perhaps. She was tall with very long, very straight blonde hair and startlingly blue eyes. Looking at her, Christine became aware of how terribly pale her own skin was…

Christine realized she was staring. She nodded and answered, "Yes, I'm fine."

The girl seemed to accept this. "Do you mind if I sit down?" she asked, pointing to the patch of grass beside her.

"No, not at all…" Christine said. Although she had come here to be alone…perhaps some company would be nice…

The girl sat down and smiled at Christine. "Sorry, to come up to you so suddenly. But I was sitting just over there," she said, pointing to a bench several yards away, "and I couldn't help but notice you. It was perfect," the girl finished with a happy sigh.

"Perfect?" Christine questioned.

"Yes," the girl said. "Absolutely perfect, look here." And she held up a sketchpad and showed Christine her drawing. It was a rough sketch of Christine under the tree with her face buried in her skirts. "It's so wonderful," the girl sighed. "The perfect mix of joy and tragedy. I couldn't help but draw it… You surrounded by the flowers and sunshine."

The girl smiled as if it was the most exciting thing that had happened to her all day. However, Christine failed to see why this was such a wonderful thing.

When Christine didn't answer, the girl continued. "But I realized I should probably come over here and see why you were looking so beautifully tragic…" She paused. "Oh, I'm sorry, how rude of me. My name is Annette."

"I'm Christine."

Annette smiled. "Well it's a pleasure to meet you, Christine. Forgive me, you must think me odd, just coming up to you like this."

Christine smiled; she did think that Annette was a little odd… She certainly liked to talk. But she wasn't an unlikable person, quite the contrary in fact.

"Now that we have met properly, I simply must ask. Why are you looking so tragically saddened?" Annette asked, an edge of excitement in her voice.

"I believe," Christine said lightly, "that you have quite the obsession with tragedy."

Annette laughed outright. "You've guessed right Mademoiselle Christine. But you never know when you might find a real life fairy tale right under your nose. And you, dear, look like you're in one, and at a particularly tragic part of the story I might add."

Christine stared at the girl for a moment. She was a complete stranger, but seemed determined to find out why Christine was so…"tragic"… She certainly enjoyed that word a great deal.

"Actually," Christine said wearily, "I am at a rather tragic part of the story."

Annette grinned and turned herself so she was facing Christine. "Well?"

Christine responded flatly, "I cannot be with the man I love."

"Oh I knew it!" Annette squealed. "I knew this was going to be a terribly romantic story!"

Christine raised an eyebrow, "And what makes you think I'm going to tell it?" 

Annette bit her lip. "I'm sorry… I'm terribly forward I know…"

"But…" Christine said. "Because you seem so set on hearing it, I will tell you. A story of two people who love each other very deeply, but can never find happiness."

And Christine continued her story. She left out all details, all names, places…just stated a general summary… But her acting skills were marvelous. With her voice she wound a…tragically…romantic tale, with a handsome young prince, a beautiful young woman, and a dark angel. She told of how the beautiful woman and handsome prince ran off together, how the woman was stolen away and the prince slain in battle, how the dark angel had rescued the woman… Christine was greatly amused by the fact that she captivated Annette so thoroughly. She was also slightly amused that the story of her and Erik sounded so right when stated in such a dramatic, theatrical way.

"And so…" she finished. "It would seem they are destined to always be apart. Constantly reaching out for the happiness that is always just out of reach. They are destined to be forever shrouded by darkness."

Annette stared at Christine and asked breathlessly, "But what happens in the end?" 

Christine leaned back against the trunk of the tree she sat beneath. "I do wish I knew…"

"I'll bet it ends happily!" the girl exclaimed. "It simply must! The story would make such an excellent novel, and those kinds of romantic novels always have a happy ending."

Christine smiled, "I hope you are right."

Annette and Christine talked for quite awhile at the base of that tall oak tree. Annette showed Christine her drawings, which were really quite magnificent. She told her how much she loved romance and tragedy. She spoke of her love of Shakespeare and her wish that her life could be a fairy tale as well. Christine had listened to all she had to say, rather fascinated with the girl. She had never met anyone like Annette before. So bold, so artistic… She really did have a flair for drama. And she was absolutely thrilled when she discovered that Christine had once sung on the stage of the Paris Opera. 

At one point they had traveled to a café for lunch, but had returned to their spot under the oak tree. It was so pleasant there. There was now shade cast by the tree and a slight breeze had blown up during the conversation, making the day much more pleasant. 

At a pause in the conversation, Christine looked up at the sun and realized with a start that she had been with Annette for several hours. 

"I'm sorry, Annette but I really must go," she said, standing and brushing off the back of her skirt. 

Annette stood as well. "Yes, I know. You must be getting back to your dark angel," she said with a smile. 

"It has been so lovely meeting you," Christine said earnestly. "Perhaps I will see you again someday."

"Yes, I would like that… Where can I find you?" she requested.

Christine paused. "The Opera Garnier… If you find a Madame or Meg Giry they will help you find me."

Annette raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing, her face portrayed amusement. "Goodbye, Christine."

"Yes, goodbye." Christine turned to go, but Annette stopped her suddenly.

"Oh wait! When is your child due to be born?" she asked with honest curiosity.

The smile on Christine lips faded quickly. "November," she said quietly.

Annette smiled, not noticing Christine's change in demeanor. "All right, I was just wondering… I will see you again!" she said, and left Christine to take the path out of the park.

Christine stood very still for a moment. She had had such a lovely time with Annette and wished desperately that the matter of her pregnancy had not come up at all… She sighed, and turned to make her way back to the Opera.

Christine entered the house on the lake tentatively. She had not meant to be gone for so long and she didn't know if Erik would be worried… He did not meet her in the foyer so she proceeded to the sitting room and saw that the door to his study was shut, telling her that he had locked himself inside. 

She went to the divan and collapsed onto it. She pulled off her shoes and laid down, sighing contentedly and sinking into the soft cushions. She found suddenly that she was very tired… Her last thought before she fell asleep was that so much sun must have made her sleepy. 

Erik emerged from his study to find Christine asleep on the divan. As he entered the room however, her eyes fluttered open and she rubbed her eyes. She saw him standing in front of his study looking at her and moved to sit up. But as she did a sharp pain shot through her temple. She gasped at the sudden pain and pressed her hand to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. Erik was at her side in an instant. 

He sat down on the divan beside her and grabbed her hand. "Christine! Christine what is it?" 

But she couldn't seem to speak. She opened her eyes to look at him and the room spun. She grabbed his arm in an attempt to anchor herself. She closed her eyes against the whirling and gripped Erik's arm tighter. 

Erik grasped her hand and gently lowered her back down to the divan. "Christine, can you hear me? Speak to me, Christine," he said urgently.

She registered his words and opened her mouth to speak. "My head…" she whispered.

He squeezed Christine's hand tightly. "I'll be right back."

Erik went quickly into his room, where he retrieved a small bottle of liquid that would hopefully ease her headache. He went back to her and carefully lifted her up with one hand on her back. 

"I need you to drink this, Christine."

Opening her eyes slightly, she saw the bottle he raised to her lips and drank it down as he had instructed. He eased her back down and said, "You're going to be all right, Christine." 

Erik didn't know what to do. Christine had these sudden attacks… Headache, dizziness… He couldn't understand it, he had no idea what would cause such a thing to happen to her and it frustrated him to no end. 

He had sat with Christine for a long while, wiping her forehead with a cool cloth and squeezing her hand. The potion he had given her seemed to ease her pain, but apparently had not completely diminished it. She had fallen asleep at last and Erik had then carried her into her bedroom so that she might sleep more comfortably. He remained close by the entire day and well into the night, just in case she awakened and called out for him.   
  


Late that night, Erik sat dozing slightly in his chair, when he heard her voice call his name. He was at her side almost instantaneously, not remembering traveling there at all. 

She squinted up at him and rubbed her head. "Erik…"

He took her hand. "I'm here Christine… Would you like anything?" 

"Water…" she said softly. 

Erik nodded and left the room. Christine struggled and managed to pull herself into a sitting position. She rubbed her head, which housed a dull ache and sighed. She had had another of those terrible headaches… She couldn't understand why they occurred. And she felt awful, knowing they worried Erik so. 

He returned a moment later with a glass of water, which she drank gratefully.

"You should eat something," Erik said. 

And it was true, she had not eaten since early afternoon and she was starving. She nodded and he forced a slight smile. "I shall return soon. Lie down, you should rest some more."

She sighed and fell back onto her pillows, willing the pain in her head to leave her and not return.

Meg smiled happily as she watched the curtain fall on the final act from the wings. The performance was over and she was going to be with Vincent again very soon. She hurried away and into the corridor so she could get back to her dressing room and change out of her costume. She was stopped, however, by her mother.

"Meg," Madame Giry said. "Christine wishes to speak to you."

Meg stared at her mother for a moment. "Tonight?" she asked blankly.

"Yes, tonight, Meg," Madame Giry said impatiently. "You're to meet her down below…"

The young dancer stared at Madame Giry incredulously. "What?" 

"She's ill, Meg. She cannot climb the stairs. The passage in the foyer on the second floor…she will meet you at the bottom. You will not see him, you have nothing to fear," she added.

Meg stared at her… No, she couldn't see Christine tonight! "Tonight?" she repeated.

Madame Giry lost her patience. "Yes, Meg tonight. As soon as you can make it. She will be waiting."

Meg watched her mother go, her heart sinking to the floor. Why tonight? She stared helplessly down the hall for a moment. She knew she had to go to Christine… It must be something important… But she had been separated from Vincent for so very long that she could hardly stand it.

And as if she had summoned him with her thoughts, Vincent appeared in the corridor ahead of her with a small bouquet of pink roses and a smile on his face.

"Dove, you were wonderful," he said as he reached her and handed her the flowers with a slight bow.

She forced a smile onto her face. "They're beautiful Vincent, thank you."

He smiled, pleased that she liked them. "I will let you get dressed and then we will be off." 

Meg looked up from her flowers. "I can't go Vincent…" she said quietly.

Vincent's smile faded immediately and the look of sadness on his face made her want to cry. He stared at her. "Christine?" he inquired softly.

Meg nodded slowly, then took a deep breath "I'll go and tell her I can't see her tonight!" she said, slight desperation in her voice. "I'll tell her and be right back here with you!" 

The young man's expression did not change. "No, Meg, you won't be…"

And with that he turned around and walked away, dejected.

"Vincent, wait!" Meg called after him desperately. 

But he did not stop. Meg stared after him until he rounded a corner and disappeared, tears burning in her eyes. She could never hate Christine, but this was the closest she had ever come…

Throwing down the roses, she turned and swiftly made her way to meet Christine, not bothering to change out of her costume first. She made her way down the many stairs rapidly, her throat burning painfully and tears in her eyes. 

Christine was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, as Madame Giry had said she would be. She smiled as Meg came into view. 

"I'm sorry you had to come down here," Christine said lightly, her voice raised to reach Meg coming down the last of the stone steps. "I've been forbidden to climb the stairs."

"Are you all right?" Meg asked stiffly, reaching the bottom. "Mother said you were ill."

"I'll be fine," Christine said. "But I have so much I must tell you…"

She stopped though and looked carefully at Meg's features, lit by the two lanterns they had each carried. She was startled to see tears rolling down her friend's cheeks.

"Meg?" she asked, her brow creasing. "Is everything all right?" 

Meg clenched her teeth together willing herself to stop crying. She gave up and said to Christine through clenched teeth. "No, Christine, it isn't."

Christine's mouth opened slightly. She had never heard Meg use such a tone before and she was taken aback by it.

"What is it?" Christine asked, genuinely concerned. 

Before she knew what was happening, Meg had collapsed into her arms sobbing. Christine's eyes widened in shock as she caught her friend in her arms. It frightened her. She had never seen Meg cry like this…never. It scared her more than anything.

"My God, Meg. What happened? What's wrong?" Christine asked frantically.

But Meg said nothing, just held onto Christine. She found it odd that she was sobbing in Christine's arms, when a few moments ago she had been angry with her. She was the reason for her tears… But how could she tell her that? Christine hadn't known… Couldn't have known… Because Meg had never told her about Vincent. It wasn't that she had wanted to keep him a secret. It was just that, Christine's life and Christine's problems were always what were important. She had enough to think and worry about. She didn't need to worry about her young friend seeing a man…

Meg's anger melted away as she cried. She cried because she was acting selfishly and putting her needs before Christine's. She cried because Vincent may have gone for good…

Christine held her friend, helplessly. She didn't know what to do. She had never seen Meg like this… "Meg please…" Christine pleaded. "What happened?"

After several minutes and many deep breaths. Meg regained her composure. She straightened abruptly, wiping the tears from her cheeks, aware that her stage makeup must have run down her face while she was crying.

"Forgive me, Christine…" she said softly. 

She was embarrassed. Christine had never seen her cry in such a manner and she had not really wanted her to either. She looked up and saw fear and concern in Christine's eyes. Meg blushed and looked away. She couldn't bear that she had behaved in such a way.

"Meg, what happened?" Christine repeated again, more gently this time. 

Meg shook her head rapidly and continued to rub her eyes. "Nothing happened. I'm sorry Christine… It's nothing."

Christine narrowed her eyes and looked at her with confusion. "Nothing to make you cry like that?" 

Meg turned away and bit her lip. Christine stared at her in disbelief.

"You're honestly not going to tell me?"

Feeling incredible guilt at Christine's hurt tone, Meg turned around. She sighed. "Christine, it would be selfish of me to talk about anything bothering me…" Her voice rose slightly. "How can anything that happens to me compare to what you're going through Christine? It doesn't! So it doesn't matter if I'm upset…"

Meg crossed her arms then and stared at the floor. 

Christine stared at her, her mouth open slightly. "Meg…how can you say that? Of course it matters…" 

She looked to Meg who refused to look at her. "You're shivering," she said.

Meg shrugged and didn't look up. "It's fine. I know you can't make it up the stairs."

Christine stared at her friend, standing in her ballet costume, shaking in the cold, her face streaked with tears… She bit her lip and looked up the stairs. It wasn't that far really… She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the house on the lake. Erik would be upset, but…she was worried about Meg now. She couldn't ask her to stand in the dark and cold when she was feeling like this.

Making the decision quickly before she changed her mind. "Come on, let's go upstairs," she said, taking Meg's hand.

Meg shook her head. "Christine, if you're ill…"

"No, I'm fine. Truly. Come on," she said reassuringly.

After a moment's hesitation, Meg allowed Christine to lead her back up the stairs. Their journey went in silence and once out into the second floor foyer they continued to Meg's dressing room, ignoring any and all eyes that watched their progress. 

As soon as they were inside, Christine collapsed onto the divan, tired and slightly dizzy. 

Meg looked at her with concern, "Are you all right? You shouldn't have come up here…"

"I'm fine. Come here, Meg. Sit down with me," she said, gesturing to the seat beside her.

Meg paused, but did as she was told and sat down. She immediately fixed her eyes on her feet.

"Now…" Christine said softly, seriously. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

A/N: Please review! :)

And I promise E/C in the next chapter. Shame on me for writing this, lol. :P


	24. Free

A/N: Hurray! Update time! :)

Thank you so much to my reviewers! I'm glad you all survived and even liked that random chapter of mine. And I am very glad Annette is well-liked…I wrote her up so randomly, lol. So both she and Vincent will be coming back, but not this chapter. 

This chapter is incredibly short and I hope no one will hurt me for it. But, I really want to update and the part I was going to add to this is as of yet, just terrible, lol. So sorry this is so short! But hopefully it will be appreciated!

Lots of love to all these wonderful people: The Phantom Parisienne, Jstarz927, Christine Persephone, Midasgirl, Scented Mask, Fantome, musicallover6, lafantome574, Badly Drawn Girl, and Riene. 

And to Jennifer: Yes, I am a Sarah Brightman fan and that is where the title came from. In fact…this title is from Harem as well :)

OK, I admitted that, no laughing now! I mean it!! lol :P

This chapter is dedicated to all of the poor people out there who had to stay up extremely late to finish stupid projects they didn't want to do.

And now it's story time. Hope you enjoy…

Not looking at Christine once, Meg told her about Vincent, and what had happened that night. She told her of the way she had been ignoring him lately and had not made time for him. She told her how guilty she felt. And how terrible she felt now that he may have gone for good. 

Christine had wrapped her arm around Meg and taken to staring at the floor as well. She couldn't believe Meg had not told her about this man… Christine always told her everything… Surely Meg trusted her… It hurt her unbelievably that she had kept this from her. 

When Meg had finished there was silence for several moments. Then Christine said very quietly, "Why didn't you tell me Meg?" 

Meg looked up at her at last. "I'm sorry, Christine," she said, her eyes glistening with tears. "You have so much to worry about. You've been so sad and had so many troubles… I didn't want to have to burden you with any of my problems. I was afraid to be happy about him in front of you. You've been so upset about everything. To see things going right for me…I thought it would hurt you. And then… You didn't need my trouble as well. I needed to be there for you, not worrying about myself…" Meg trailed off then, at last running out of steam.

Shaking her head, Christine pulled her friend close, hugging her tightly. "Meg, that is ridicules. Anything that worries you is not trivial. I always have time and room for you and what's happening in your life. I'm sorry I made you feel that that wasn't true."

Meg closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath. "Don't blame yourself, Christine. I was being foolish."

Christine felt tears stinging her own eyes. She really did love Meg. She cared so much… Perhaps she really didn't do enough in return. "You are not foolish, Meg." Christine paused. "I am so lucky to have you."

Christine made her way down the stairs of the passage slowly, running her hand along the wall for balance. She dreaded going back into the house. Erik had asked her not to climb the stairs. Well…he told her not to, although he made it seem like a request. He would have noticed by now that she had gone. As she continued her way down, she felt sudden, incredible guilt. She shouldn't have risked it… What if she had had another headache? But Meg had been so upset… Remembering Meg's tears, she straightened a little. Yes, it had been necessary. 

She opened the door quietly, turning around completely to close it once she had stepped inside. The house seemed completely silent… She went to the sitting room. Erik was in his chair, a book in his hands. He didn't look up as she entered the room.

She bit her lip. He was making her feel even guiltier and she had the feeling he realized it. 

"I'm sorry, Erik," she said, breaking the silence. He looked up from his book and she continued quickly. "But Meg was very upset and I thought it best to get out of the dark and cold. She needed me…"

Erik nodded at this and put the book down on a side table. "You needn't apologize, Christine. You know better then I how you are feeling."

Christine went to the divan and sat down heavily. "No, you were right. I shouldn't have gone up." She saw him frown and hurriedly said, "I'm all right, of course, but…tired." 

Erik hesitated… Then decided to throw caution to the wind. He stood and sat down beside Christine, putting his arm around her. Christine smiled and settled into his embrace, her head against his chest. Erik shuddered slightly. He could hardly believe the boldness of what he had just done. But as they sat there together, he was so glad he had done it.

Christine closed her eyes tiredly, her right hand unconsciously reaching up to gently stroke under his chin. 

She smiled again. "This is nice," she said softly.

Erik said nothing. He did not believe that the word "nice" began to describe the scene. He might have believed it a dream, but it couldn't be. She was real. He could feel her in his arms, could feel her fingers touching him, could feel sheer happiness and pleasure burning through his veins. This sensation could not have been created from his imagination. It was real.

She felt him shudder slightly and her fingers stopped their caress. Instead she took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. She sat up for a moment and turned to look at him. But finding she could not think of a single thing to say to him, she turned back and settled into his arms once more.

Christine's hand rose to his face now and met with the silken feel of his mask. He had been forced to wear it for so long… At first she had thought it would be too difficult for him to remove it, that they weren't prepared for an additional upheaval in their lives. But now she realized it was a mistake. He had grown too accustomed to never taking it off in her presence. She feared that she had waited too long, that now he might never remove it.

But she would make him do it. She had told him she loved him. Now it was Erik's turn to do the incredible. Christine knew it would not be easy. She knew exactly what he would think. He had just gained her love and he wouldn't be willing to put it at risk so soon. Erik would see it as the end… He didn't understand that it truly was the beginning.

Christine sat up again, this time standing up entirely. She faced him, looking down at him on the divan. She let out a short sigh, but knew it had to happen, eventually. It might as well happen now. She held out her hand for him to take. After a moment's hesitation he did and she pulled slightly so he would rise to stand before her.

She did not release his hand and met his gaze steadily. "Erik…I will never leave you through any choice of my own…" she said. 

Erik cocked his head slightly. It was such a sudden announcement, and he wasn't sure what was causing her to say it. He looked into her eyes and nodded slowly. 

He closed his eyes briefly as she laid her hand on his cheek. He shook himself slightly, refocusing his eyes on her, to find her eyes beseeching him. She wanted him to remove it…

Trying hard not to reveal his panic, he took a step back to free himself from her touch. To his surprise, she did not move forward. She stayed still.

"Do you not feel it?" she asked. 

Erik looked at her, waiting for her to continue…he didn't know what she was talking about really… But he did, and he could feel dread creeping into every crevice of his body. 

"Feel what?"

"You do feel it Erik," Christine said firmly. "It's…it's like a solid, stone wall built high between us. And it's terrible that you've had to keep it up for so very long."

Erik stared at her. "Please Christine, don't ask this of me…" 

"You know it will be better this way. You must know that… I have seen you before, Erik. Please. I told you, I told you I would never choose to leave you, and I mean that."

Erik could feel his heart pounding painfully. He had barely heard her repeat her statement of loyalty. He just knew that she would see him and regret telling him of her love. He felt it was unfair, that he had not been given enough to time to be with her, in love with her honestly. This would certainly end it. She had not seen his face for a very long time. Perhaps some of the horror had been forgotten… Perhaps she only thought she was prepared for it again…

His pain was so great at that moment he could hardly stand it. Christine, who had been through so much, was now asking to have the burden and horror of looking at his face turned as well.  He couldn't stand it.

"Erik, I know this is hard. I know that… But I don't want you to hide from me any longer." Christine said. "It…it will be over in a moment. Think of it, in a moment, that wall could be gone and you could find me in your arms. Or…" she paused. "You can leave it up…and I will know that you will never trust me."

"Christine, that is not true," he beseeched her, trying to stall what was quickly becoming inevitable.

"You remember when I was so frightened of your face…" she said slowly. "But do you think I am in any way that same person? Look at me, Erik. I am not that frightened little girl anymore. I am a woman who is very much in love. And who very much wishes to look upon the face of the one she loves."

Erik turned his back to her. He knew she was right about that at least. She had grown up so much he could scarcely believe it at times. It shocked him how very strong she was. Perhaps…

 He closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths and trying to do as Christine said. He tried to think about a few moments from now when it would be over. He tried to imagine that maybe in a few moments she really would still be with him. It would be over soon… He had to remember that. Slowly he raised his arms and placed his fingers on the ribbons that held his mask in place. He painstakingly untied them and then removed the mask entirely. It hung limp in his hand for a moment before it dropped it to the floor. It landed with hardly a sound, a small heap of black silk. And then he turned.

And Christine nearly went limp with relief. He had done it. And she was all right. For a moment his indecision had nearly wavered her own resolve. But now she knew that she had worried for no reason. He was attractive to her now as he always was. She could never love him any less…

"And now the worst is over. You see Erik? It's over now." 

She went to him then and embraced him, wrapping her arms around his torso. His hands hung limp at his side. They didn't seem to move despite his instinct to wrap his arms around her. Tears threatened him again and in a short lived battle; he gave in to them and slowly brought his arms up to encircle Christine. 

They stood that way for an amount of time, indeterminable to both of them, before Christine loosened her grip on him and looked up into his eyes. 

She reached up and kissed his cheek gently. "You are a brave man, Erik," she whispered.

She led him back to the divan then, and they resumed their position, almost as if nothing had happened. But such a simple gesture really had changed them. They both could feel the effects of it already. The feeling of lightness, the relief, the happiness that they were still together. The tension of the anticipation of the moment had gone. There was silence for the rest of the night, but it wasn't oppressive in any way. The room felt full. They fell asleep together, neither of them wishing to get up and retreat to their own rooms where they would have to be separated. They were going to be torn apart and knew they had to enjoy every moment they had together.

A/N: Please Review :)

Even though I'm rather afraid to hear them…lol. Next chapter will be longer I promise!


	25. Anytime, Anywhere

A/N: Well, what can I say? Here comes my apology… The only thing I can say in my defense is that I had no inspiration for this story for the longest time… I was completely blocked, and I still don't know if this turned out entirely the way I wanted it to…

The good news? During the time that I could just not finish this chapter, I completed several scenes for upcoming chapters so _hopefully_ the wait will not be so long again!

To my reviewers, your comments continue to thrill me to no end! I thank you so much for reading and appreciating your story! It is the most wonderful thing in the world to imagine that your writing is so loved... I can not thank you enough:

lafantome574, Jstarz927, Erin, Angelic Lawyer, LeLeMusicAngel, musicallover6, Jenn, Miranda7911, Midasgirl, Fantome, Mystic Darkness, Opera Ghost Kid, Diva Mamma, Narsil, and Siren's Chant

Diva Mamma: And yes, I was actually thinking the same thing about Erik, and believe me I am working on it. You will see him more in future chapters I am hoping! Thank you for your comment and your idea :)

And of course, to those people who supported and helped me during that plagiarizing incident… Riene, Midasgirl, The Phantom Parisienne, Narsil, and Paperface. Thank you for being so supportive and keeping me sane. I do so appreciate it. I still do not fully know what was going on, but it is my understanding that the incident will not be repeated. 

I believe I am just about finished talking now… This chapter is longer than most and hopefully will be tolerable for the most part. Not sure if I am completely comfortable with it. The plot and direction changed completely about 50,000 times… Hopefully it turned out decently in the end. Be sure to tell me so if it did! And definitely tell me if it didn't… Yikes…

Anyway, I do hope you enjoy!

When Christine awoke the next morning, Erik had gone. She stood slowly, as it made her dizzy to stand up too quickly. She stretched slightly and went into the kitchen where she proceeded to make herself breakfast. She was just standing to clear her plate, when Erik entered the room, his cloak still on from being out of the house.

Christine looked at him for a moment and asked as lightly as possible, "Is everything all right?" 

Erik paused for a moment, which caused Christine to frown. "Erik…what is it?" 

"I want you to see a doctor," he said, as if expecting a strong argument from her.

She kept her face impassive and calmly picked up her plate from the small table. Setting it down beside the basin, she said, "All right."

Erik was taken by surprise; he had felt sure that her first thought would be refusal. "What?" 

She turned to him. "You're right, I should see a doctor," she said casually. "When?" 

"Today if you are willing to go on such short notice," he said.

"Yes, all right," she agreed. 

Suddenly Erik felt highly uncomfortable for a reason he couldn't quite name. Their conversation seemed rather unnatural. Christine had noticed this too so she went to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I would have liked to have woken in your arms this morning," she murmured.

Erik closed his eyes as he held her, as if to savor her words slowly. He said nothing and Christine understood and had nearly expected his silence. They stood in each others arms for a few moments, until Christine spoke.

"I must get dressed," she said softly, although she did not really wish to break their embrace.

Erik let her go immediately and nodded. She smiled gently up at him, then stepped around him and left the kitchen to go to her room. While she changed out of the wrinkled dress she had fallen asleep in and put on a fresh one, she promised herself that when she returned from the doctor's that day; she would tear that mask off herself, if Erik didn't…

Hastily throwing her hair into a bun to keep it off of her neck while out in the heat, she left her room and found Erik coming in through the front door.

As she closed the door behind her he said, "I…thought it best that Madame Giry escort you."

Christine nodded. "Are we to leave now?" 

"Yes, I will escort you to the street," Erik said.

Christine just nodded again, slightly unnerved with Erik's formality. But, she realized, he was most likely concerned about what the doctor would have to say… He was worried about her, she knew.

She held his hand as they made their way to the Rue Scribe, sometimes squeezing his hand reassuringly. She wished he would relax. He was beginning to make her nervous about it…

When they reached the door that would lead her to the street, he released her hand and said, "Madame Giry will be waiting for you."

Christine looked up at him. She met his gaze steadily and suddenly wanted him to kiss her… Something to tell her that she was going to be all right, that he cared… And as she thought this and stared into his eyes, she was greatly shocked and pleased when he quickly placed a kiss on her cheek. He was well rewarded for his daring when she smiled warmly, a true smile that lit up her eyes. She hugged him quickly and whispered, "I love you," in his ear before going out the door into the sunlight.

It was only after she disappeared that Erik remembered to breath.

Erik spent a very restless day in the house by the lake. He had no desire to leave in case Christine should return earlier than expected, but had no desire to stay either as he was very anxious and found that nothing seemed to interest him. In the end, he decided to go through his massive collection of sheet music to find something simple to play. Christine had become more and more interested in learning to play the piano, and searching through his collection of music occupied his mind very satisfactorily.

Later that afternoon, Erik sat reading a book that did not really interest him at the moment, when he heard the door open. He stood calmly, not wanting to appear as anxious as he was. He replaced his book back in its proper place on the shelf. He hesitated a moment, then removed his mask and placed it on top of the piano. Taking another breath to calm himself, he went into the sitting room.

Christine sat on the divan, her head leaned back and her eyes closed. Erik closed the door a little louder than he would have done to alert her of his presence. 

She opened her eyes slowly, and managed to smile at him. 

"Would you like anything?" he asked, restraining from 'What did the doctor say?'

She nodded, closing her eyes again. "Tea, if you don't mind…" she requested.

Erik left the room, knowing that the second he walked back in the room she would have to tell him what had happened. A few minutes later, he emerged from the kitchen with two cups of tea, although his would remain untouched. He sat down beside her and waited patiently while she sipped her tea. But she couldn't stand him just staring at her, so she set her cup down and began to speak.

"Erik…what I'm going to tell you is going to worry you. But, please," she said, looking into his eyes, "don't get upset."

"Don't get upset?" Erik repeated. He stood up quickly, preferring to pace rather than have to sit still. "Christine, what happened?" 

"Well…" she began slowly, following him carefully with her eyes. "I'm not in any immediate danger. The baby is all right… But…" she paused. "He said that…he's seen symptoms like mine before…"

She stopped, but Erik wouldn't have it. "What did he say Christine?" 

"Erik will you stop moving around so!" she demanded. 

He stopped. "If you will tell me any faster, mademoiselle."

Christine glared at him. "You are impossible. Just sit down…please."

Erik locked his gaze with hers and at last he gave in and sat down in his chair beside the divan.

 "It isn't so uncommon," she continued after a moment, trying to regain her thoughts. "But…he does know of…" She stopped, closing her eyes briefly and swallowing hard. "Women have died, Erik…" she finished quietly. 

Her words did not seem to process correctly. Erik heard them, understood what she had said, but… He must have misunderstood her. Horror gripped him at the thought of Christine's life being in danger. In danger because of a man who had forced himself on her… No, she was his now, she could not die. Oh forgive him! He had just snapped at her and now this announcement!

"Erik," Christine said. He stared at her and realized by her tone that she must have said his name at least once before. 

"Perhaps I shouldn't have said that…" she said quietly. She took a deep breath to calm herself. "Listen," she began, seriously, "I'm not going to die Erik. I won't." She paused, knowing what she had said was stupid, but wanting to reassure herself. "The doctor said that it was usually worse than this. That there were normally other severe symptoms, that occurred much more often and that I wasn't in any immediate danger. And…that the women who died were usually very ill all the time or malnourished or…" she stopped. "All right, say something Erik. I can't stand repeating these things any longer."

Erik shook his head slightly. "You should have gone before…" he said.

Christine grabbed at his hand. "Erik, I knew you would do this!" her voice rising. "You will not find a way to blame this on yourself! This has nothing to do with you and you know it," she finished.            

He didn't respond. He did feel responsible that she was sick. He knew full well that it was ridiculous, but he had told Christine that had would protect her, and he couldn't.

"Are you all right?" he asked finally, not in reference to her health.

Christine shrugged and looked away from him. "The chance is so small, Erik. I don't want to be afraid."

Erik nodded slowly. His distress put tears in Christine's eyes. The sudden silence between them was oppressive. Desperate to stop it, she stood and pulled him up with her. 

"Here," she said, leading him to the door of the library and opening it. "Why don't you play something for me and I'll make us something to eat." 

He smiled down at her softly, marveling at her behavior. She was strong. She would live. 

"Now where is he?" Christine muttered under her breath.

Christine stood outside the opera house, watching a stream of people flow past her. The opera for the evening had let out and people were beginning to make their way home. It was a very clear night and pleasantly warm, a nice change from the oppressive heat. She stood beside the large entrance doors, for the most part unnoticed. She searched the crowd for the young man Meg had taken to pointing out over and over again. He seemed to be around the opera a great deal. 

At last she saw him. He went out the door, unaccompanied as he always was when she saw him. She followed him, her cloak drawn tight around her and her hood up. She caught up to him when he reached the street.

"Excuse me," she said, touching his shoulder.

Vincent turned when she tapped him. 

Christine lowered her eyes. "Pardon me, sir, but are you Monsieur Bennet?"

"I am…" he said slowly, wondering how this woman knew him. "And who are you, Mademoiselle?"

"Forgive me, monsieur," she said, hoping he wouldn't be offended at being approached in such a manner. She pushed back her hood, realizing she looked rather suspicious with her face partially hidden. "My name is Christine Daaé."

Christine was relieved to see recognition of her name cross his face. He relaxed a great deal and said, "Yes…you used to sing here. You are Meg's friend."

Christine nodded, and took note of the informal way he addressed Meg. He obviously still cared for her for. "Monsieur…I just came to tell you that, Mademoiselle Giry has been quite miserable since you walked away from her that night and it is most certainly my fault that you are not together at this very moment."

Vincent stared at the young woman before him. She had come up to him to discuss his private affairs? But before he could answer Christine continued.

"Please, I beg your pardon sir. I know you are thinking that it is none of my business. But…Meg is my friend and I hate to see her so upset over something like this."

Christine waited then. She knew it was not her place to get involved and she knew she was being very bold, but she couldn't bear to see Meg needlessly depressed for another day.

He frowned and repeated, "She's upset…"

Christine saw that she had affected him and jumped at her chance. "Very much so. She wishes to see you, but is afraid that you have left her for good."

Vincent's frown deepened and he shook his head. "No…not for good," he said, more to himself than to Christine.

"You should go to her, monsieur," she encouraged him.

He seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding. "Yes…I will do that."

Christine did not try to hide her grin. Vincent moved past her and back towards the building, avoiding the crowd that still pushed through the doors. He stopped suddenly and turned back towards her. "Thank you, mademoiselle," he called and fought his way back through the crowd. 

Christine watched him go, glowing with her success. It had been so simple. She couldn't believe Meg had been too stubborn, too afraid to talk to him herself! Christine sincerely hoped that Vincent would not mention that he had spoken with her. Meg would be furious… But she would forgive her fairly quickly, of that Christine was certain.

Meg sat at her vanity in her dressing room after the performance. Her chin rested in her hands as she simply stared at her reflection in the small, oval mirror. She was still in costume, too exhausted to remove it. Although her exhaustion did not really come from the performance, more from thinking too much. Thinking about Vincent, worrying about Christine… She was lost in thought, her mind jumping around at random. She almost missed the soft knock at her door. She sat up straight in her chair and listened carefully, wondering if there had actually been a knock or if she had simply imagined it. Deciding that it would be best to make sure she wasn't leaving someone standing out in the hallway, especially if it was her mother, she stood and opened the door.

She did nothing to mask her shock when she saw Vincent standing in the doorway. His hat was in his hands and he gripped it nervously. Meg was aware that she looked rather stupid with her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open, so she did her best to straighten herself. She stammered for a moment before actual words came from her mouth. "What do you want?" she said at last. Oh she could have kicked herself for that! How could she have voiced something so rude? 

Vincent seemed not to be affected by this terribly blunt remark though and continued as if she had greeted him pleasantly. "I came to apologize… May I come in?" he asked carefully.

Meg nodded and stepped aside so he could enter. After she had shut the door she turned to him. "You wish to apologize? But Vincent…"

"No, I do need to apologize. Please do not tell me that you are the one at fault. I am sorry, Meg. Frankly I have been quite miserable since that night and I knew that you must feel the same. I am so sorry I left you like that, Meg. You are the most wonderful woman that I have ever known and I never wished to make you unhappy. Please say that you will forgive me." He sighed then, after saying all of this rather quickly, as if he had been practicing and was relieved he had gotten everything right. 

Meg was at a complete loss of what to say. Never, in her entire life, had she had such a thing spoken to her. She was completely certain that it was the sweetest thing anyone had said to her. She stared at Vincent who cared for her so much… She wondered how it could be possible that such an amazing man had chosen her as the object of his affection. Forcing words out of her mouth she said quietly, "Of course you are forgiven, Vincent."

He sighed again; obviously relieved she had accepted him instead of sending him away. Common sense had told him that she wouldn't have, but he had worried nonetheless. He grinned broadly. "Well then, I would like to accompany you to dinner if you have no other plans."

"No!" Meg said immediately. "I mean…no, I have no other plans. I would love to." She blushed then, something she did not often do. She was petrified that she was making a complete fool of herself and that Vincent would notice that.

Vincent smiled again. "Excellent," he remarked. Then he moved closer to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Relax, dove. It's just me, no need to be nervous." 

Meg laughed. "I am acting like a fool. I'm sorry… But I just can't believe you have taken me back," she admitted.

He laughed softly. "I would never wish to live without you in my life, Meg."

She ducked her head as he said this and felt on the verge of tears. It was unimaginable that he cared so much. She hated that she was crying in front of someone else yet again…

Vincent frowned at her then. "What's the matter?" 

"Nothing," Meg said, hurriedly wiping her eyes, and doing her best to prevent anymore tears. "Nothing could be the matter. Just…let me get dressed and then we will go."

He smiled. "Of course," he said and moved towards the door.

"Vincent?" 

He turned back. The two stared at each other for a moment, then Meg burst out laughing and ran into his arms.  

"You are wonderful…" she said, still giggling helplessly.

"Oh, Christine, it was wonderful!" Meg exclaimed, her grip tightening on her friends hand. "It was so romantic. He took me to dinner and then for a ride through the park… Oh I cannot remember feeling so good!" 

Christine grinned, thrilled that her young friend was so happy. "The two of you are quite adorable Meg, I hope you know that." 

Meg giggled. "Ah, you should have seen me last night! I kept saying such stupid things to him… And yet he didn't seem to care! You should have told me it was this wonderful!"

"What is so wonderful?"

"Being in love of course!" Meg said, then quickly clapped her hand over her mouth, another peal of giggles emitting from behind it.

Christine's eyes widened and she nearly laughed for joy herself. "Meg Giry, did you just say that you were in love?" 

Meg stood up then, her excitement too much for sitting. "Oh, I don't know. If I knew what real love was, then I would say yes. Well, how should I know? But I imagine it would feel like this!" She laughed again. "You must think me so silly, talking this way."

"Of course I don't think it's silly!" Christine said. "Meg, I think it's marvelous."

"You do?" Meg asked excitedly, sinking to the floor at Christine's feet, her hand on her knee.

Christine smiled down at her, "Yes, I do. I do not believe I have ever seen you this happy Meg."

Again, Meg found she could not keep still and stood up, spontaneously twirling about the room. "Ah, well I am happy. This is the way it was when we first met…only much more so now. Oh, I'm not even making sense anymore, but what does it matter?"

"And you know what, Christine?" Meg said, stopping in front of her and leaning in as if she had a secret of great importance to tell. She paused dramatically. "He kissed me," she said, and within a moment she was back to laughing and twirling.

Christine couldn't help but laugh as well. Her darling little Meg… She sighed. She loved to see Meg this way, but wished that she could be so blissfully happy, without a care in the world…

Meg stopped her dance about the room and looked at Christine, whose expression had become slightly saddened. All at once Meg felt guilty for being so happy. She was about to say something to her when Christine's face suddenly distorted into an expression of pain and surprise. Her hand flew to her abdomen as she gasped. 

Meg ran to her, "Christine what's the matter?" 

"I…" Christine began, but her words were cut off by a short cry of pain.

Meg's eyes widened suddenly. "Oh no, Christine… No, no! The baby isn't due for two months yet!" she said frantically.

Christine grabbed Meg's hand and Meg nearly cried out herself from the strength of Christine's grip. "Meg…fetch your mother. Bring her here," she said, her teeth clenched.

"But, I shouldn't leave you!" Meg's voice rose in panic, she had no idea how to react to this.

"Please, Meg! Go!" 

With that, Meg stood up, squeezed Christine's hand again and said, "I'll be back!" Then she ran from the room as fast as she could to find her mother.

Madame Giry looked up from her desk with a start at the sound of loud knocking on the door. 

"Mama!" 

She stood quickly when she heard Meg's voice and hurriedly opened the door. She found Meg outside shaking, with tears streaming down her cheeks. 

"Meg, what's happened to you?" she asked, allowing emotion into her tone.

Meg grabbed her mother's hand. "Mama, it's Christine! I think she's going to have her baby, but it's too soon and I don't know what to do…" With that Meg burst into tears again. 

Madame Giry took her daughter's face in her hands. "Calm down, Meg. It's all right. Stop crying."

With a shuddering breath, Meg attempted to calm herself on her mother's instruction.

"Now," Madame Giry continued. "Go outside and see if you can get us a cab to bring us home. I will take care of Christine, it will be all right."

Meg nodded and sprinted off, disappearing around a corner in an instant. Madame Giry hurried towards Meg's dressing room, worried about Christine, but more worried that Erik was unaware of the situation.

The next hour or so flew by in a flurry of activity. Christine was taken to the Girys' home and made comfortable, the doctor was sent for, and the ballet rats were stymied as to what could have happened to cancel their rehearsals. Rumors flew about Meg Giry who had been seen running down through the halls crying, but nothing really came of them.

During this time, Christine managed well. Unlike Meg, she stayed calm for the most part. Until she realized that Erik would not know what happened to her. She begged Madame Giry to go to him, to tell him what was happening, to tell him where she was! But Madame Giry refused to leave her. After much discussion and many tears, it was decided that Meg would go. The thought of meeting the Phantom of the Opera terrified Meg, no matter how Christine spoke of him. But she would go; Christine needed her to do it.

Meg shortly afterward found herself climbing through the mirror of Christine's old dressing room and descending further and further below the ground. It grew colder, but this time she was dressed for the journey. She realized she had been running when she reached the lake in a shorter amount of time than she would have thought it to take.

Her mind was spinning as she stood on the edge of the bank, peering through the darkness, towards the other side. This was happening too fast! It just didn't make sense… But she was here, no matter how unreal it seemed and she needed to get Erik's attention. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, "Monsieur le Fantome!" 

Her voice echoed back at her, and her fear suddenly came back tenfold. She would be all alone with him… Oh why had she volunteered for this? But she couldn't give up now. She hesitated, then called out, "Monsieur Erik!" 

Still, the only sound that met her ears was her own voice reverberating off the walls and the water. She began to panic. What if he couldn't hear her? What if he wasn't here?

"Please, monsieur!" she shouted, desperation creeping into her voice. 

When the echo stopped she listened. After a moment, she detected a small sound. The splash of water…like a boat being rowed! Meg was unsure whether to be relieved or even more terrified now that she heard him coming. She squinted through the mist and darkness, but could see nothing. She waited, her stomach twisting in knots as the sound grew louder. Then she saw a faint light, gradually drawing closer to her. The light grew until she could decipher the lantern it originated from and the boat which supported it. And finally, the figure of the Phantom emerged from the shadows. 

Meg stood upon the bank silently as he approached. She remained silent still as the boat came to rest and he stepped out. She backed away slightly. He was so very tall…and that mask! Oh she couldn't do this… She had always imagined meeting Erik someday…but Christine had always been with her then!

"Well, Meg Giry, I assume you have some explanation as to why you are down here shouting for me," Erik said casually.

For a moment, Meg could not speak; his voice caught her by surprise. She desperately tried to control her breathing and hated herself for being so frightened. He was just a man! Her best friend was in love with him for heaven's sake! She swallowed hard and said, "I beg your pardon, monsieur. But…I had to come, I was sent here. It's Christine." 

She saw his whole body tense and he took a few steps toward her. "What is it?" he asked, his voice losing the intoxicating beauty Meg had experienced just a moment ago.

Meg could have cried then, both from fear and from the way she could tell how much he loved her friend just from hearing him say those three words. He was just a man… "You must come with me, monsieur. She's…she's going to have her child," Meg said at last, ducking her head in embarrassment.

Erik said nothing, but instantly took off down the passage Meg had come from. She could do nothing but run behind him and try to keep up.

Erik arrived at the Giry's home only a few steps ahead of Meg. He had walked the entire way and if anyone had stared at his mask, he had not noticed at all. His only thought was Christine. When they walked in the front door, he allowed Meg to pass him so she could lead the way up the stairs and to the door of their flat. 

Madame Giry was waiting for them just inside the door.

"Meg, go to your room," she said when they entered.

Meg nodded, and left the room quickly without protest.

Madame Giry then gestured for Erik to follow her into a small parlor, furnished well despite it not being elaborate or expensive. Erik took no notice of anything. Every fiber of his being was tense and he was so worried about Christine he did not know what he would do if Madame Giry to not tell him what was happening.

Luckily, she did speak just then. "Everything is quite all right Erik. You needn't look so upset."

"Madame, your daughter informed me…" He stumbled. "What exactly do you mean by all right?"

"She did not deliver, Erik," Madame Giry said. "I sent for the doctor who said it had been a…false alarm of sorts."

Erik took in this information. Christine was all right. Well Madame Giry had said that. "Where is she?" he asked automatically. 

Madame Giry pointed to a door behind her, "She's there, in my bedroom. She may be asleep…"

But Erik didn't have the patience to listen to anymore, or suffer through an attempt to make him calm. 

Erik knocked softly on the door of the bedroom and it swung open as he did so. Entering carefully, he observed Christine, awake, propped up on several pillows. She turned her head to him as he entered and offered a small smile, to reassure him that he needn't be worried about her. 

"Come sit down," she said, indicating the edge of her bed.

Erik hesitated a moment, then seated himself beside her, after closing the door. 

She reached for his hand. "Erik, I am sorry you had to worry about me so. What Meg must have told you… She was upset," Christine said.

"Don't apologize, Christine," he said automatically, feeling as if he had to constantly say it to her. Would she never accept that these things were beyond her control? He needed to say something else now. She was staring down at their hands. She looked so very tired… Perhaps it would have been better if it had all ended today.

He sighed and continued his examination of her delicate fingers. "You nearly had to do this alone," he commented. "I left so abruptly, and you were fine this morning…weren't you?" Erik asked, looking up at her in concern. "You felt all right this morning?" he repeated.

Christine nodded. "For the most part, yes."

"For the most part?" he repeated. "Christine, that is ridiculous. If you were feeling poorly you should have stayed in the house. You shouldn't have been climbing all of those stairs…"

"Stop," Christine interrupted him, a hand to his lips. "Erik, it is you who is being ridiculous, carrying on so! I'm fine." 

Erik stood up then and glared at her. "It might not have turned out so well!" he admonished. "You could have been hurt! Oh yes, how I would have adored coming home to see the only woman I have ever loved collapsed at the bottom of the stairs." 

He stopped, realizing where his nervous rant had brought him. Christine had been right about his carrying on… He just did not know when to stop! He exhaled sharply to reign his emotions back in and chanced a look at Christine. She was silent, staring down at her hands… Oh no, she was going to start crying…

Erik, deciding he had all ready let his speech run away with him, allowed himself to kneel beside the bed and take her hand. "My dear…I'm sorry. Please don't cry, I just… I shouldn't have left you today. Seeing you here, safe, has driven me mad with relief. You know what the doctor said." He stopped, swallowing to force the lump out of his throat, noting the tears that stained her cheeks. "Oh Christine…"

She looked up at him at last as his hand touched her face gently, her eyes brimming with tears that she was trying to hold back. She covered her hand with his, still pressed against her cheek. 

"What would I do without you?" she said softly. "I'm sorry I'm crying again…but how can I help it when you say such things to me? …I do love you so," she finished.

Erik closed his eyes, relishing her words. But she had not finished, she brought his hand down and grasped it tightly between both of hers. 

"I know that sometimes you do not believe me when I tell you that I love you. I know I haven't done a very good job of showing it…" She paused, awkwardly trying to find the right thing to say. "You know how…difficult this is, Erik. This has been so hard on both of us." She looked at him pleadingly, searching his eyes for acceptance of these words. He had to believe that she loved him; someday she would be able to prove it to him completely… Carefully she slipped off his mask and kissed his forehead gently. "I love you, Erik, I do… Tell me you do believe it is so. Don't tell me you want to believe it! I have no desire to hear that. Are you certain?" she demanded. 

Erik stared at her, her face set firm. He wondered briefly how she managed to be so beautiful all of the time… In one fluid motion he was on the bed beside her and embraced her, her chestnut curls brushing against his unmasked face. His lips were close to ear and he said, "I believe it is so Christine..." He pulled away from her, wishing to see her eyes as confirmation for his words. "You could not lie to me in this way…" He knew what he was going to say next, but was afraid. He was flattering himself too much, and he feared it would all be thrown back at him in horrible repercussions. "Even if you did not love me…you would not despise me that much." He stared straight into her eyes, and she met his gaze steadily, affirming that he should continue on. "You will not hurt me again."

Christine then did something Erik did not expect. She smiled, a huge grin that lit up her eyes. "Erik, for once you do yourself justice!" She wrapped her arms around him again. "I love you…maybe someday you will love yourself."

He smiled softly. "Love is a strong word, Christine."

"I know."

A/N: And there it is, at long last… Next chapter won't take so long! (I hope as much as you do!) Thank you so much for reading and now I humbly request a review :) 

I'm scared…lol

Oh and just one more thing! Shameless plug for my dear, dear friend Cujo Queen of the Desert. If you like humor, bashing Andrew Lloyd Webber, and/or Lord of the Rings, please do check out her story, Guys and Balrogs, based on the fact that the musical version of Lord of the Rings will be with us in just a few years… What if Andrew Lloyd Webber had control? Uh oh…. :) Thanks guys!

Hopefully you can see the link…having trouble with it for some reason…


	26. Without You

A/N: Ah, update time already! :) Well…it's been two weeks, so that's not that short… But compared to the last chapter… This chapter was very easy to write because unfortunately, not much happens… I just wanted to stick this in here while I have the chance. This chapter is completely and utterly devoid of Christine, which is odd, but that's what happened. Next chapter I'm sure will just culminate in much E/Cness and angst…so this is the calm before the storm I suppose you could say, lol.

lafantome574: You know, I don't think I have ever left you a personal message here, and you always leave me such wonderful reviews! And always one of the first reviewers too. I appreciate it! :)

Ilandra: Thank you for your kind review. You are a wonderful writer and I do value your opinion! I'm glad you enjoy.

SKYwalker-BLUE: Don't worry about, better late than never :P Thanks a lot!

Claire Starling: Yes, there will be a LOTR musical…but not on Broadway. It's set to open in London in 2005. Don't worry, lol. And I thank you for your kind words! 

Eric: Smile, mister. Have some more story :)

jo: Thank you for your suggestion

Big thank you to all of my awesome reviewers: Opera Ghost Kid, Jstarz927, Fantome, Midasgirl, Angelic Lawyer, AyeshaKitten, Miranda7911, jo132000, and Mystic Darkness :)

More notes… Parts of Chapter 18 have been rewritten so go check that out if you want! :)

Hope all Americans had a nice Thanksgiving.

And now, it is story time, hope you enjoy!

Madame Giry was waiting for Erik when he emerged from the room, closing the door silently behind him. She sat in an armchair, facing him, her eyes soft.

"Is she asleep?" she asked.

Erik nodded. He stayed where he was, feeling extremely awkward. It had certainly not been his intention to intrude in Madame Giry's house as he had. He cleared his throat slightly and said, "I thank you for your kindness and your help today, Madame."

Madame Giry bowed her head slightly, feeling the stiffness in his voice and posture. But after what happened today, she didn't know if he would ever relax again. "Why don't you sit down, monsieur?" she said gently, gesturing towards a chair.

He hesitated, then moved towards it and sat down, feeling uncomfortable sitting there as if he were an average guest.

"Well, monsieur, as you have seen, she is all right for the time being. The real question is, are you all right?" Madame Giry waited, the last time she had inquired as to his feelings he had become angry, but she was willing to take the chance out of concern. 

Erik sat back in the chair. He was not angry that she had asked him that, but it made him feel even more uncomfortable than he already did. He sighed. "I don't understand why you ask me questions when you already know the answers."

Madame Giry nodded at this. "Yes, I do know the answer. Perhaps I wished that I was incorrect." She paused. "If you are blaming any of this on yourself, monsieur, I would suggest you stop at once. Christine doesn't need that right now. Do it for her, if not for yourself. This is not your fault." 

"I know that," he snapped. 

She shrugged, "That won't stop you from feeling guilty, saying that you know. I know you, monsieur. You cannot hold yourself responsible for everything that happens to that girl. Some things are beyond your control."

Erik's eyes narrowed. "And I can't stand that…"

Madame Giry smiled softly, "I know."

Erik turned his attention to her fully. "You are too good to do all this for us, madame."

"I have always helped you gladly," she stated matter-of-factly.

Madame Giry paused. "You do realize Erik…that she will have to stay here."

He started. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.

Madame Giry sighed; she had hoped this would not be difficult. "She is ill. She needs to be here in bed, where a doctor can be at hand quickly. You must understand that…"

Erik stared at her. "She cannot stay here, madame," he said, almost blankly. He couldn't understand why Madame Giry was saying such things. She would not take Christine away from him…not now… It was too soon!

"Listen to me Erik," Madame Giry said, trying her best not to be condescending. "It could be dangerous for her to leave. I know she told you that she is not well… What happened today…it could be the real thing any day now. She can't go back."

Erik shook his head. He knew that it was for Christine's health and safety that she remain here, but… It wasn't fair! They thought they would have two more months together, and now she was being wrenched away from him! This was happening too fast…

Erik nodded slowly. "Of course…"

Madame Giry looked at him sadly. "Of course, "she repeated him, continuing on, "you are more than welcome to stay here with her monsieur."

It took a lot of control to mask his absolute shock at this invitation. It took him a moment to even understand. How could she possibly find it in her heart to be so kind as to invite a monster into her home?

Erik looked away from her in a definite move. "After this day madame, I will surely remain in your debt for quite a long time."

Before Madame Giry could respond, Meg made a hasty entrance into the room, keeping her eyes on the floor. 

"Excuse me, Mother. I do not mean to interrupt, but I must return to the opera for my things." She chanced a glance upward and looked at her mother. "Is that all right?" 

Madame Giry nodded. "Yes Meg, but be quick about it. You should be back here before it gets dark."

Meg nodded and nearly ran out the door.

Madame Giry shook her head and turned back to Erik. "Don't mind her, monsieur. She's…shaken from today."

Erik shrugged. "She has every right to be afraid of me, madame. And you see…perhaps I shouldn't stay here. I don't wish to cause her any distress."

"Nonsense," Madame Giry said. "You will stay. And Meg is not afraid of you…but you are an enigma to her, monsieur. She is a child, and no matter how often Christine speaks of you, she is not used to your company."

Erik didn't answer, but stood up and went towards the door. "Well…I will have to return to the opera as well… Christine will need her things…" 

He hurriedly opened the door and was soon out of the building. Much more conscious of the daylight now than he had been earlier, he arranged for a carriage to bring him to the opera. 

He slumped against the seat with a sigh. No doubt this whole situation was one of the most awkward he had ever felt… He sincerely doubted that even now he would accept Madame Giry's kind offer. It would not be right for him to invade their privacy. He would bring Christine her things, apologize, and leave again… He would be back the next day… Christine would be fine there… Although, he admitted to himself that he might not be fine without her… 

Oh such weakness! He hated to think that he could no longer go a few days without her presence… If something did happen to her, he knew it would be the end for him as well. He could not physically survive such a blow.

Annette entered the Opera Garnier with confidence, as if she went there every day of her life. She could hardly believe the incredible grandeur of the interior. She was dazzled by all of the statues, marble, gold, and painted ceilings. Her fingers itched to draw it. She would have to return with her sketchpad…

Christine had said, if she ever wished to see her, then she should find a Madame or Meg Giry at the Paris Opera. Well that shouldn't be too difficult…

She looked around and saw a man coming down the grand marble staircase. He seemed to know his way around… 

When he reached the bottom, she went directly up to him and said, "Excuse me, do you know where I can find a Madame or Meg Giry?"

The man examined her for a moment, then said, "I was looking for Mademoiselle Giry myself…"

Annette smiled, "Oh good, you know her then! Where might she be?" 

He shrugged, "She should be here, but she doesn't appear to be…"

Annette sighed, "Well that doesn't help me much does it?"

The man raised an eyebrow at this comment. She certainly was rather rude…

"I'm Annette, by the way," she said, as if as an after thought. "And who are you?"

"My name is…Vincent," he said, rather reluctant to give this girl his first name. He definitely wasn't thrilled by her forward way of speaking. "How is it that you know Mademoiselle Giry?" he asked, knowing he should not be unkind to any friend of Meg's.

"Oh I don't know her at all!" Annette said. "You see, Christine Daae told me that if I was to find her I was to ask Meg Giry. That's why I need to see her."

"I see…" Vincent said.

Annette nearly rolled her eyes. He was being no help at all and he didn't seem particularly talkative either… She couldn't take that, when people thought things and didn't just say them. She always did.

"Well, if you have nothing more to say, then I should just look elsewhere," she said, smirking at him.

Vincent's eyes widened. She was being sarcastic! He couldn't believe it. He couldn't think of anything he had done to offend her… She must just be a disagreeable person…

He watched as Annette began to wander up the stairs, looking all around at every detail. He shrugged and looked towards the entrance. Meg had just walked in.

"Meg!" he said, in greeting.

Annette stopped and turned when she heard this and watched them.

Meg raised her hand in greeting and smiled weakly. She stopped walking and Vincent met her there. He kissed her hand tenderly and said, "Good day, Dove."

Meg sighed. "Oh I do wish it were…"

Vincent frowned. "What's wrong, Meg?"

Taking both his hands, she looked up at him, hoping she wouldn't cry. "Christine is ill… She is staying with us now… I just came back to get my things."

"Oh Meg…I'm sorry," he said. He took her into his arms and Meg instantly felt better. Vincent could always make her feel better… That's why she loved him, because he cared.

Annette chose this moment to add herself into their conversation. "Did you say that Christine was ill?" 

Meg broke away from Vincent and stared at the girl, trying to figure out of she knew her from somewhere. "Yes…I did. I'm sorry, I don't recognize you at all…" she said.

"Oh you wouldn't," Annette said. "This is the first time I've ever seen you either! I'm Annette, I'm a friend of Christine's you see… I came here to see her and she told me that you could direct me."

Meg cocked her head thoughtfully. Christine had never mentioned this girl before. "Well, I'm sorry Annette…but Christine is unwell and it would be impossible for you to see her now."

"Well, I understand that of course! The poor dear… I hope that she's all right! You will tell her I said that? And that I was here? Won't you?"

Meg could do nothing but nod. Annette smiled. "Thank you very much, Meg. I should be going then! Poor Christine…how very tragic to fall ill now! Anyway, thank you, and it was nice to meet you…" She looked up at Vincent. "And to meet you, monsieur." She smirked again and was gone.

Vincent glared after her. "She is not very polite, that one…"

Meg shrugged. "Oh stop Vincent. She was here for only five minutes. I don't think that, she's just…outgoing, that's all. And she did seem concerned about Christine."

"And has Christine has ever mentioned her?" 

"No…but that doesn't mean anything," Meg said.

Vincent shrugged. "Maybe she can't stand her either."

"Vincent!" Meg cried. "Oh you are terrible… Oh, I'm sorry, I really can't be standing here all day, I need to get my things… Come with me?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, smiling softly at her. He took her hand. "And are you all right?"

Meg nodded. "Just stay with me now."

Meg didn't intend it, but she did end up spending much more time with Vincent than she had originally thought to. When she finally looked at the clock, she realized that it most likely would be dark out. And what had her mother told her….

She hastened out of the dressing room with Vincent at her side. Once outside, he immediately offered to escort her home.

"You don't have to Vincent, it isn't far," she began.

"Nonsense Meg, as if I would allow you to walk alone in the dark."

"Mademoiselle Giry," an imperious voice sounded behind them.

Meg jumped and spun around. She nearly fell against Vincent as Erik stepped out of the shadows.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times before any words would come out. Why did he surprise her like that! "Good evening, monsieur," she said at last.

Erik walked towards them and Vincent instinctively moved slightly in front of Meg. "I was sent here to escort you home," Erik said emotionlessly. "If that agrees with you…"

Vincent now stepped forward in front of Meg. "I assure you, monsieur, that will not be necessary. I had just offered to take her home myself."

Vincent did his best to stand his ground as the man, who was even taller than he was, advanced toward him. Dressed completely in black, he seemed to be a part of the night. He was obviously a threat and he couldn't imagine how Meg could possibly know such a figure. Well, Vincent would not let him harm her… He would fight! The man came closer and the fact that he was wearing a mask became quite clear in the dim light of the moon. 

Meg saw that Vincent was ready for a confrontation and grabbed his arm quickly. "It's all right Vincent. This is…Monsieur Erik. He is a friend of my family."

Vincent narrowed his eyes at the forbidding figure before him, who remained silent. This man was a friend? 

"Meg," he said, his back to her as he didn't dare turn away from the man in the mask, "I….are you certain?"  He had wanted to say, 'Meg, I won't allow you to go anywhere with him,' but he ended up stumbling. Something about that figure just filled him with a sense of danger.

Meg pulled on his arm and brought him back to stand beside her. "It's all right Vincent. I know this man well, he is a good friend of my mother's." Meg saw the look of suspicion upon Vincent's face. "I promise," she added quickly.

Vincent frowned and looked back at Monsieur Erik, who still said nothing. He fought with himself for a moment, knowing he should trust Meg, but still worried that he was doing the wrong thing by not bringing her home himself.

He looked at Meg again, who was staring at him, her eyes wide and pleading with him to just let her go. Meg took his hand and squeezed it. "I will see you tomorrow, Vincent."

He sighed, defeated. "All right Meg…if you are certain…"

"I am," she said. "My mother would be displeased if I didn't go."

Vincent nodded. "Then go, dove."

Meg bit her lip, then looked up at Erik. "I'm sorry, monsieur. Let's go…"

Erik simply nodded as if the entire conversation had been below his attention. "Good evening," he said to Vincent with a slight bow of his head and he began to walk to the street leaving Meg to hurry behind him. Vincent watched them both climb into a waiting carriage, wondering where on earth anyone would meet such a man.

Meg could not imagine a more awkward situation. She was all alone in an enclosed space…with Erik. She fidgeted, smoothing her dress, pretending to look for something in her bag, staring out the window… Anything so it would look like she had an excuse for not talking. Erik however did not seem to expect or want her to say anything. He also looked completely at ease, while Meg remained tense. However, she was pleased to find that she wasn't afraid of being alone with him. Just…uncomfortable…

She chanced a glance at him every few seconds, amazed at how real he was. To her, he had always been surrounded by some incredible aura of mystery. Not just when he was the infamous Phantom, but when Christine spoke him… He sounded too perfect to be real… But he was, and he was just a foot or two away from her. It was a very odd experience.

Meg was never so grateful that she lived so close to the opera. The trip was soon over. They both climbed out of the cab, and after Erik paid the driver, they went inside and climbed the stairs together. At the door of their flat, Erik stopped and turned to face her.

"Does your mother know about him?" he asked, frankly.

Meg was taken aback by such a question and her eyes met the floor immediately. She shrugged. "I may have mentioned him," she said softly.

He nodded and they went inside without another word.

As Erik promised himself earlier, he did not stay with the Giry's, despite Madame Giry's kind offer. It wouldn't be right… So he had left, as much as he did not want to leave Christine. He went back to the opera and did not sleep at all that night. 

The entire house seemed to change without her presence. With her, it could actually be considered a home, but without her…it became a prison once again… But, he thought, better a prison than a tomb… No, it was not a grave, but he was chained there and could not be with his Christine. While he lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, he wondered if he should have stayed.

A/N: Don't be disappointed! Next chapter will be more…exciting…I'm sure. Hm…is this chapter as fast paced as I think it is? Gah…

Thank you so much for reading guys.

Please review! :)


	27. If Love Were All

A/N: Joy for joy…an update. Well this is it, a chapter with many things happening and one I am exceedingly nervous about… It's very open to revision, trust me. 

Reviewers whom I love:

Soldier of Darkness: Ah, it was a pleasure to see you reviewing again. I'm glad you are still enjoying it, and I see you are still reading it at ungodly hours :P

lafantome574: Ah Vincent…yes he does have a bit of Raoul in him, doesn't he? But only a bit, lol

Breathing Shadow: Thank you for the compliment about my dear Erik…I do worry about him so.

Fantome: Your analyzing reviews are a joy to read. Yes, Erik and Meg now have a connection, lovely :)

draegon-fire: He can't resist her! Of course!

Jstarz927: yes you had better watch what you say miss…hehe

angelofopera: Thank you for your wonderful words, I appreciated reading them. I could always use a confidence boost.

Ilandra: I do so love Madame Giry, I'm glad you do too! I'm glad my characters are enjoyable :)

Angelic Lawyer: Yes, Annette and Vincent amuse me as well…they so totally clash.

Riene: I thank you again for actually taking the time to read this. It was lovely to find your reviews…I'm thrilled you don't like Annette. That was the point of her and Vincent meeting of course, they are both capable of being unlikable. And you repay me well, pointing out my errors you perfectionist you… Thanks miss.

Capricorn Chaos, musicallover6, SpookyAsGhost, Opera Ghost Kid, Not so Blind Mieko, and Mystic Darkness: Thank you so much for your reviews, I'm glad you are enjoying the story.

Here is the chapter now…no beating me. Constrictive criticism is preferred over cries of outrage! Just remember that… Remember that everything written here can be revised quite easily…but I can do no more now, I need some feedback. *Cringes as people begin to read*

Madame Giry opened the door of her room, Christine's for the time being, silently and looked inside to find the young woman asleep. That was for the best, she could find the peace in slumber that she could not find in her waking hours.

She almost missed him as she prepared to shut the door again. The door was pushed open all the way and Madame Giry crossed her arms. 

"And I thought you had turned down my invitation for reasons of courtesy, yet it seems you've disregarded it this morning."

Erik rose from the chair that he had been sitting in, set in the back corner of the room. "For that, Madame, I must ask you to forgive me."

Madame Giry shrugged slightly. "I knew you wouldn't stay away long. Are you hungry?" 

Erik shook his head. "Thank you, madame."

She nodded. "Come for me when she wakes up, if you don't mind."

He agreed to this of course, and Madame Giry shut the door. Erik seated himself again, marveling at how natural that conversation had been. It was odd…He never really thought about just what a good friend Madame Giry was to him. It baffled him utterly why she thought so much of him.

Erik sank back into the chair further. He was sitting in shadow now, the curtains were halfway drawn and the sunrise only brought a soft glow through the panes. It wasn't uncomfortable…and he was with Christine.

Her back was toward him, and as much as he would have liked to be gazing upon her face, he didn't mind in the slightest. A night without her had been hell. But perhaps he had needed to go through it, the loneliness and emptiness that accompanied her absence. It made him love her even more. The thought of returning to her again sustained him through the night. Oh how he had missed her! It was so strange that he would long for her so…after all; it was only a few hours separation. And had he not survived months without her, thinking he would never see her again? He could not understand it…couldn't begin to comprehend the complexity of such an emotion. Erik was a genius in many fields, but love was not one of them.

He started when Christine stirred slightly, but from what he could see, she soon was asleep again. He found himself longing for her to wake, so much did he wish to take her into his arms after being without her. Erik knew this was childish, but he couldn't help it and he didn't dare touch her now, while she was asleep and unaware. 

Perhaps if the situation were different he would have sung to her. But now he remained silent. He waited, his eyes sweeping over her mass of curly hair and the contours of her body.

The sun rose steadily and it became brighter in the room. Erik remained still as long as he could stand to, but then stood and shut the curtains all the way. Christine let out a sigh then, strangely musical to Erik's ears. He turned and saw her moving to sit up and rubbing her eyes.

It didn't take her too long to spot him and she started when she did. Christine frowned and brought her hand automatically to her hair. "I should have expected to find you here." She sighed. "I look dreadful, stuck in this bed…"

Erik shook his head. "You couldn't look dreadful if you tried, my dear."

Christine smiled slightly and looked away. Her expression changed then. "You went back last night…"

He shrugged slightly. "It would not have been proper for me to stay here."

"From the man who was waiting in this bedroom…" 

"Well…' Erik said, "I suppose it has been proven that I can't be proper all the time."

Christine laughed softly. "And I thought you were the perfect gentleman."

"I can be," he answered seriously.

She smiled. "I know…"

There was silence for a moment, and Christine turned to prop the pillows against the headboard for her to lean on. Once she was settled back, she looked at Erik, standing awkwardly in the corner.

"Come here, Erik," she said, holding out her hand.

He moved around the bed immediately at her request, sat down, and took her proffered hand. 

She stared at their hands for a moment and didn't look up as she said. "I understand that…staying here would be uncomfortable, but…I wish you wouldn't leave me."

Erik's grip on her hand tightened. "And I wish you wouldn't make it sound as if I abandoned you last night."

Christine looked up abruptly. "I didn't mean it like that…"

"I know what you meant, Christine."

She looked up at him now and into his eyes. She realized how much he must have missed her…how alone he had been. Her hand rose and rested on his cheek. Her fingertips met with the fabric of his mask, but she could not ask him to remove it now… 

"I am selfish, you must remember," she said. "I want you with me."

Erik took her hand from his cheek so he held both of them in his own. "My dear, you are no more selfish than I am."

There was silence then…electrified silence. The room suddenly felt too small as Christine's gaze bored into Erik's golden eyes. Christine looked away briefly, but found it impossible to take her eyes away from him. She loved him, she needed him.

"Erik?" she said slowly. "I…" again she tried to look away, heat growing in her cheeks.

But his hand rose gracefully to her chin and pulled her back into the scene. And one more look in his eyes and she couldn't contain herself. It was a blur, it was over before she realized what she had done, but somewhere she had leaned forward and Erik had pulled her towards him. Somewhere their lips had met and all of the tension that had been building burst suddenly, before causing a sensation of all thought simply melting away.

It took Christine a moment to realize what had happened, so caught up was she in the emotion of that single moment. When this realization occurred, her eyes widened. "Erik…" she breathed. But her words were stifled as he pulled her forward into another kiss. 

The scene was incredible. All sense of reality left them completely and it felt as if this moment had been waiting to come for the longest time. Erik savored this moment as he had never done before. He had forgotten the initial contact of this sensation. The feeling he remembered, but the details had been lost somewhere. Her lips were so warm and soft…and she so willingly allowed his kiss! And he was lost…

It was Christine who pulled away from him.

Erik didn't know what to do. He sat frozen, staring into Christine's eyes, unable to pull his gaze away. It had actually happened… Oh, he loved her…had waited so long for this contact! He felt his desire for her returning quickly, a startling feeling that rushed through his veins. He had buried it for too long, ignored it all for her sake. But he had kissed her now, she had kissed him, oh he couldn't even remember… At that moment he wondered how he had managed to survive those months with her so close to him and yet so far away. Erik had done the impossible, pushed aside his feeling for her, but no more! He couldn't stand it for another second. He shuddered slightly, fighting the urge to claim her lips again. He couldn't, this was…no not the first time they had kissed…but he couldn't move too fast now, not when he had just achieved this… Her kiss, her love! Oh she was his! 

Christine, unable to bear his burning eyes any longer, looked away quickly, praying he would say something… She couldn't bear the silence after that… Oh what had made her do it? From his eyes alone she knew he didn't mind in the least, which made her more nervous. However, it also made her glad that she had kissed him… Had it been she who had done it? It must have been…he would not touch her without her specific consent… But sometimes she wished he would. 

She forced herself to look up at him again, as she felt his hand touch her face. Biting her lip, she met his eyes and saw his love for her within him. He still loved her so, even…under such circumstances. 

"Erik," she breathed.

"Yes, my angel?" he said, running his hand along her cheek and through her hair.

She shivered at his touch; it sent a thrill through her to feel his hands meet her skin. She had not experienced that for a long time… She had become so accustomed and familiar with his touch. Long ago, when he had first taken her to his home. His touch had thrilled her then and it thrilled her now. Oh he knew it too and yet he chose to speak infuriatingly calm!

"Please don't speak so calmly…I can't bear it. I've waited to long for this Erik. This feeling should have been rekindled long ago."

His eyes narrowed and he asked hesitantly. "Rekindled?"

Christine stopped herself from sighing at his blindness towards some things. She had felt this for him a long time ago and he was obviously unaware. "That is what I said," she said quietly. "We have…kissed before. And I meant it then. Just…I meant it." She looked away again, having no idea what she meant to say to him.

His hand dropped from her face. "I know you did," he said softly after a moment. "That knowledge sustained me through many nights." His hand took hers and he held it tightly. "But it doesn't matter anymore…the time I spent alone was my fault. You are back with me now."

Christine nodded, refusing to look up. "I am…"

Both heads snapped up as a knock sounded on the door and Meg walked right in. She froze at the sight of them together. "Oh…oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here, monsieur." She ducked out of the room quickly, leaving Erik and Christine together, feeling extremely awkward after that interruption. The moment was broken.

Erik stood up. "Well…I told Madame Giry I would inform her when you awoke."

"Oh…well, then you should go I suppose." 

He nodded, but lingered beside her bed. "I love you, Christine."

She smiled. "And I return that sentiment completely."

Erik had only been gone only a moment or two when Meg hurried in the door. "Christine…I am so sorry," Meg said, plopping onto the bed. "Why must I keep making a fool of myself with him in the house?" she sighed.

Christine smiled, looking almost past Meg, rather than at her. She was glowing; she loved him and finally had done something to show him. She felt happy, fulfilled. It was glorious to feel his kiss lingering on her lips.

"Christine, are you even listening to me?" 

"Yes, Meg. I'm listening." 

"No you're not!" she said. "I still don't believe you are. Oh, I hope I wasn't interrupting something…"

Christine smiled at Meg and said nothing.

"Now stop that! What are you smiling about? You are going to tell me aren't you?"

"Perhaps…" Christine said offhandedly. 

Meg crossed her arms. "You're horrible, just tell me."

"Well since you are begging…"

"I'm not begging!" Meg said, "I just…all right I am begging. But tell me!" 

Christine laughed. "My, you are excited…but I will tell you… He kissed me Meg."

"What?" she shrieked, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand. She eyed the door of the room hoping her mother wasn't on the way to scold her. After a moment of waiting, she slowly took her hand from her mouth, revealing a grin. "That's wonderful Christine, it's about time…"

Christine rolled her eyes. "Don't say such things Meg, I couldn't have just gone and kissed him!"

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Because…because I don't know why not. You leave me alone."

"Of course I won't leave you alone! But tell me…"

Meg was interrupted by Madame Giry entering the room. "Meg, go get the tray out in the kitchen for Christine."

The dancer nodded and gave Christine another grin before hurrying out the door. Madame Giry caught her as she went out. "And after that leave her alone, she needs to rest. The doctor is coming this afternoon."

Meg sighed, "Yes Mama."

Erik exited the office silently, creeping into the dusk as if he were one of the many shadows cast by the sun that was just barely showing over the horizon where it was setting fast. He lowered his hat further over his face and set off at a brisk walk, heading back to the Girys' home, and to Christine. No matter how terrible it was, he was set in his determination to not stay there for long. Although he didn't think he was strong enough to last another night alone under the opera. It might be better to just not return to his own place of residence.

It took him longer than he would have liked to get back to the flat, but it was dark and to anyone who glanced in his direction he seemed as entirely black figure, an exact shape unable to be determined. The building was soon before him and he hurried in the door and up the stairs. He felt he had left Christine for too long. He needed to see her again, immediately.

Erik knocked softly on the door to the Girys' flat and was about to let himself in when the door swung open. Madame Giry stepped through it quickly and shut it behind her again. Erik stared at her, confused by this action. 

"I'm sorry, Erik, I can't let you in."

"Excuse me?" he said, not quite processing what she had told him.

"You aren't allowed in," she repeated.

Erik shook his head, his eyes narrowing. "What?" he nearly shouted.

Madame Giry held up her hand. "Hush! Now listen… This is it Erik. Christine is delivering. The doctor is with her, everything is fine…"

She trailed off and tried not to be frightened by the look Erik gave her. His teeth clenched and he said with forced calmness, "Madame, kindly step aside and allow me through."

Placing her hand on the door frame so that her arm blocked the entrance, she said, "I've told you, Erik." 

"Step aside, Madame," Erik repeated, his voice rising.

Her voice rose to match his. "You will not enter _monsieur_. What could you be doing for Christine? The doctor is here, you can not be with her! This is serious, Erik."

"I will not tell you again, Vivienne!" he shouted. 

There was silence for several moments, in which both parties attempted to regain composure. At last Madame Giry drew herself up to her full height and said quietly. "I trust you will return tomorrow. Good night, monsieur."

Erik said nothing and did not move a muscle as she disappeared and the door was closed. He stood in the silent hall for what seemed like hours, but was really only a matter of minutes. Finally willing himself to move, he stepped forward carefully and pressed his ear to the door. He heard footsteps and voices. And then he heard a cry of pain…

"Christine!" he shouted and banged his fist against the door. The voices inside halted for a moment, with only Christine's voice rising still. But Madame Giry must have done something because soon, the hustle inside began again.

Defeated, Erik backed away from the door and with a last glance he ran down the stairs and out into the night.

The next morning found Erik sitting with his back leaning against the wall, directly next to the door of the Girys' flat. He had roamed for most of the night, furious with himself for leaving Christine. Wandering blindly, he had spent his time worrying. He would return as soon as he could. He had to be there… Surely Christine was calling for him! The situation had been unthinkable for him. He had been warned of the dangers Christine's birth posed to her. How could he bear it? Not knowing what was happening? He drove himself half mad before he returned to the building. Eventually he managed to calm himself down. He heard no sounds of alarm… So he had settled himself to wait until the morning. It had finally arrived. Restraining himself from banging on the door with all his strength, he raised his fist and knocked firmly.

Madame Giry opened the door and stood aside for him to enter.

As he did he nodded respectfully. "Madame," he greeted softly.

She nodded, then pointed to the door of Christine's room. Erik glanced at her, suddenly fearful of what he might find within that room. Christine must be fine…He would not be allowed to see her otherwise! Yes, she was all right…but… An unnatural fear gripped him. He scolded himself harshly. The opera ghost feared nothing.

Erik knocked softly on the door of the room Christine was in. 

"Come in," she said. She sounded exhausted.

Erik opened the door slowly and found Christine in bed, propped up on several pillows. He froze when he entered the room and first saw Christine's child, resting in her arms. She looked up and saw him there, but she did not smile. In fact, it looked more like she would never do so again.

"You're here," she said.

Erik nodded and stepped a little farther into the room. It took every ounce of control he had to prevent himself from running to her and releasing all the emotion he felt at that moment.

"Erik, come here," Christine instructed him.

Silently he obeyed. He then looked at Christine, who nodded permission for him to sit on the edge of the bed. He sat carefully, for the child in her arms seemed to be asleep. His beautiful Christine, disheveled and weary, holding a baby was one of the strangest sights he had ever seen. It seemed so unreal.

Christine stared down at the child in her arms. "He's beautiful, isn't he?" she said softly.

Erik looked down at the child. He was unusually small, his face was very red with fat cheeks and a mass of brown hair matted to his head. There was nothing particularly beautiful about him at all, but Erik was touched by Christine's statement. To have a mother who called her babe beautiful… Erik nodded in agreement.

She looked back up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. "He's so small….the doctor said that…he didn't know if he'll survive."

Erik just stared, her distress upset him immensely, but what could he do to comfort her? She didn't seem to expect him to speak at all though. She looked back at the baby boy she held. "What if I never see him grow up? He might make such an extraordinary man… How can I look at him? Knowing that he could die?" A sob choked her and she had to stop for a moment. "Erik, will you…take him, put him in that bassinet just there?" she asked nodding towards the corner of the room at it. It had been Meg's and Madame Giry had managed to find it.

Erik looked down at the infant, then up at Christine. "I don't think that I should, Christine…" he said. Truthfully, he was afraid to hold the child. Christine's child…what if he woke or frightened him? What if he harmed him in some way? He shouldn't be responsible for a human life.

"It's all right Erik, take him, please," Christine said and with some difficulty held the sleeping boy out to him.

Erik hesitated, then held out his arms to receive him. He lifted him up; imitating the way Christine had cradled him. It was a thrilling and frightening sensation. The child he held in arms was almost unbearably small, his tiny chest rose and fell slowly as he breathed. Erik held a human being, one who slept peacefully, blissfully unaware of the monster who handled him. Not once in his life had he experienced such a thing. It was an amazing thing to hold an infant, and he had never even thought about such a thing. Carefully he carried the child across the room and laid him gently in the bassinet. His arms tingled with the warmth of the boy's body and Erik could hardly believe what he had just done.

He returned to Christine who was smiling sadly at him. Erik sat back on the bed and took Christine's hand. "Are you all right?" he asked, wishing there were some other words he could say that would show how deeply concerned he was for her.

She nodded. "I'm tired…but I'll be fine."

Erik sighed heavily. The doctor had been wrong, she was all right… Had been worried for nothing. He could have laughed at himself! She was fine and he was quite beyond relieved. 

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Christine. There is so much I should be saying right now… So much I wish to tell you, but I do not know what I should say."

"Then don't speak," she whispered, sinking further back into the pillows, her physical exhaustion becoming more obvious. "You being here is enough."

He leaned forward then and kissed her forehead gently. "I love you, Christine."

She smiled, closing her eyes. "Thank you."

"Is there anything you want me to do for you?" he asked, wanting desperately to ease some of her pain.

She shook her head, her eyes still closed. "Just sit with me."

Erik took her hand in both of his and remained with her. She was asleep in just a few moments, but he sat there long afterward, simply staring at her, stroking her cheek or her hair, marveling at her strength. She had said she would live, said she would survive…and she had, just like that! And she was still beautiful. It had all happened so fast. It seemed like it should have been more difficult, but he was so glad it wasn't. It was over…yet something new, and undoubtedly difficult, was just beginning now. His gaze continued to linger on Christine. He wondered briefly how she managed to be so enrapturing under any circumstance. He tore his eyes away from her image to glance at the child and wondered what on earth he was going to do.

A/N: Remember what I said up above! No cries of outrage please… Please take the time to review and help me out. It is so greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading.


	28. Hurry Home

A/N: Ahhh! You all…I am so sorry about this ridiculous amount of time that I haven't updated. As usual I don't have an excuse, but I do apologise and I hope I'll be forgiven.

I hope you'll enjoy this chapter! Thanks a bazillion to Midasgirl, for not only betaing this for me, but also for giving me the confidence to post it!! And also for just being an absolutely wonderful person.

To all of my reviewers: All of your words mean so much to me, I cannot possibly thank you enough for taking the time to leave me your thoughts on this story. And thank you to all of those who sent me private emails too : )

Riene: Now really, this chapter I must have all my commas. (Well…I mean definitely as Cat helped me where I forgot) Haha, I have gotten better at that I think though. But anyway, thank you for taking the time to actually sit down and read this, it means a lot : )

Christine Persephone: And you too reading my story! I'm honoured. And yes…I'm working on that confidence thing…

Angelic Lawyer: Well, you'll just have to wait and see if I've changed my mind, hehe. Thanks for your lovely review.

Fantome: Your reviews are such a joy to read. You just love to analise everything and its brilliant : ) : ) : )

Lady Willow: Don't die! :P

sage: Thank you very much for your review. You didn't really finish your sentence (I do that a lot, lol) but I assume you meant to say you don't like having Clementina and Annette just hanging around. But I don't know, I figure not everyone you meet in life has to play such a pivotal role. Not everyone you meet becomes your best friend, not everyone stays in touch with you. People come in and out of your life often and you don't always notice. Not to say they won't be used more… :P

Mystic Darkness, Opera Ghost Kid, Jenn, tinagirl259, escawing, Phantomgurl33, lafantome574, Capricorn Chaos, JULIE :P, musical, sharonarnotdon, Jessica Lauren, and asthalanthil: You guys really keep me going. Thank youuuu! : )

And now…after much waiting…enjoy! (And I hope the spacing on this chapter holds out crosses fingers)

Christine woke to find late afternoon sun shining in her eyes. She heard footsteps behind her; someone was moving about the room. Turning over, she squinted sleepily at Meg, who was setting down a bowl and a glass of water.

"I thought you'd be hungry," Meg said. "And you do need to get up, the doctor said he would be back tonight."

Christine groaned, still half asleep. "It's too bright in here," she muttered, bringing her arm up over her eyes.

Meg laughed shortly. "Nonsense, it's the afternoon! The sun is practically setting. Besides, it's good to have some light in here."

"No," Christine said groggily. "Won't you shut the curtains?"

"Oh, fine," Meg sighed. "You'll turn this room into a cave."

"I don't care," she muttered, watching Meg pull the drapes closed through half shut eyes. Christine moved then to look at what Meg had brought her. She made to sit up and Meg quickly went to help her, propping up the pillows more behind her.

"Are you feeling all right?" Meg asked gently.

Christine shrugged. "I suppose I'll live…I'm so tired."

"Well, you can sleep for awhile longer after you eat," Meg said, attempting to sound cheerful. "I'll…I'll be right outside, if you need anything."

Christine frowned slightly, disappointed that her friend wanted to leave. "Am I such horrible company that you must rush out of here?"

"Oh no!" Meg said immediately. "I just…I thought that maybe you'd like some privacy."

Confused when Meg looked away from her, Christine demanded, "Meg, what is it?"

Meg shrugged. "I…I just don't know what to say to you." She paused. "And that sounded horribly stupid, I'm sorry."

Christine sighed, and leaned farther back into the pillows, closing her eyes. "Just sit down, Meg." She felt the bed sink slightly as Meg sat and pulled her knees up under her. "Is Erik here?" she asked, not opening her eyes.

"No," Meg answered.

"Did he say when he'd be back?"

"No."

"Oh."

There was silence for a moment, not entirely uncomfortable, but Meg wanted it broken anyway. "Can I talk to you about him, Christine? About Erik?"

She nodded, her eyes still shut. There was another length of silence. "I thought you wanted to talk," Christine said.

"I do," Meg said slowly.

"Well then…"

"Well, I don't know where to start."

"All right, then I'll start. So, Meg, what is it about Erik that you wish to discuss?"

Meg sighed and flopped down on the bed, laying across it in the wrong direction at the foot. It didn't matter, Christine wasn't looking at her anyway. "I suppose…" she started. "I…I suppose I want to know what you're going to do. Will you go away with him?"

"I don't know."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I don't know, Meg Giry," Christine snapped. "He can decide for himself what he wants to do."

"All right then, I'll ask what you want to do…and don't you dare say, 'I don't know.'"

"I want to spend the rest of my days with him," Christine said casually. She sighed and sat up when Meg didn't say anything. "Don't make me think about anything definite. Not right now. I have nothing to tell you."

Meg still did not respond, and this time Christine made no attempt to keep the conversation going. But Meg did speak; she was full of questions, and did not know the proper way to ask any of them.

"And what of the child?"

Christine tensed slightly. "What of him? He is my own and will stay with me."

"And with Erik as well?" Meg asked.

"Why must you speak in that tone? I've already told you that Erik can do what he pleases. I can't make a decision for him now, can I?"

Meg turned and propped herself up on her elbows to look at Christine. "But where will you go?"

There was a pause and in that moment, her strength wilted. Christine looked down and responded softly. "I don't know." She closed her eyes, on the verge of starting to cry, something she could not bear to do again. "I guess I keep hoping that Erik will have the solution to all of this."

Meg bit her lip. She had been trying not to upset Christine, although there wasn't much for it at the moment. She had every reason in the world to be upset. "Well, maybe he does!" she said, her voice sounding a bit too cheerful to be authentic.

Smiling softly, Christine looked up. "So you want to convince me of that, do you?"

"Of course I do!" Meg said. She then pulled herself up into a sitting position and sighed. "I should go… Mama doesn't really want me in here 'disturbing you.'" She rolled her eyes and stood up. "But I'll be back soon."

Christine smiled as best she could and watched Meg leave quietly. Her eyes traveled to the bassinet holding her baby. It was a miracle that he was so quiet. She had thought that all babies were loud, screaming things. No, he cried rarely, usually when Christine had fallen asleep again and he was left unfed. But...oh, she hoped it wasn't a bad sign that he didn't cry all the time. Could that possibly mean that he wasn't healthy? She shook her head. That was just a silly analysis of it. She was no doctor and knew nothing about it. Christine looked at the food that Meg had brought and grimaced slightly. She couldn't eat, she felt…tired. It was more than tired, but she couldn't think of another word for her state of being. She leaned back into the pillows and let her eyes close. They did not open until she heard the sound of the baby crying to see the doctor had come again.

She was feverish for much of the night. The child was removed from her room and Meg was left to sit up with Christine while she lingered between sleep and delirium.

Erik had come by very soon after the doctor had left, entering a home full of bad news. Christine was in no danger, though they had been left instructions to watch her carefully, keep her warm, and not allow her to be up and about. The doctor had seemed much more concerned about the babe, to the distress of all. The boy was weaker, shouldn't have lived this long. A priest was to be sent for the next day so that he might be baptized should the terrible happen….

Erik had taken all of this in, speaking quietly with Madame Giry behind Christine's cracked open door. He had gone into the room, but had left quite quickly, tense and unwilling to speak to Madame on his way out.

Now, as Meg held onto Christine's hand, she rather wished that he hadn't left so quickly. If he was here her friend might stop muttering his name so…

Meg dozed off after midnight, unable to keep her eyes open a second longer. However, she started awake after only a few minutes when Christine abruptly grabbed her arm and cried out. The girl jumped violently at being awoken in such a manner and shook her head a few times, trying to process what was happening around her. Her eyes focused on Christine, grasping her arm tightly and breathing heavily.

She stood up quickly, exchanging her arm for her hand in Christine's grip. "Christine!" she whispered quickly. "Shhh, it's all right, dear. Calm yourself!"

"Meg!" she gasped, between her harsh breaths.

"I'm right here; please calm down, Christine…" But there was no immediate response. Meg repeated her name again in hopes of getting her to relax, to recognize her.

Christine took several more gasping breaths, before her breathing began to slow somewhat, but her grip on Meg's hand only tightened.

"What's the matter?" Meg asked her, worry creasing her face.

"Meg, he has no name!" she managed to say, through the tears that had suddenly appeared.

Meg frowned, her head still slightly clouded due to the late hour. "No name? The baby you mean?"

"Of course! I…oh, God, Meg, he has no name! Is he all right? I wasn't thinking..."

"Christine! Please, it's all right… He's fine. He shall have a name tomorrow, I promise." She took her hands and placed them on Christine's hot cheeks. "Calm down, everything will be fine."

"But Erik has to be here!"

"I know, he'll be here," Meg said soothingly. She noticed her efforts were beginning to take affect. Christine was relaxing slowly. "There, you see? You should sleep, everything is all right." She felt as though she'd repeated that a hundred times, but if it was helping…

"All right…" Christine said, slowly leaning back onto the pillows.

"Everything will be all right," Meg said again. She breathed an enormous sigh when Christine's eyes closed. She could only guess from where that episode had stemmed! It must have been her fever…or perhaps she had been dreaming.

Meg left the room briefly and returned with a wet cloth that she placed on Christine's forehead. She then rearranged herself on the chair placed beside the bed, attempting to find a comfortable position. It didn't take long for her to realize that this was impossible. Satisfied enough, she stopped her shifting about and stared at Christine for a few moments. She hated taking care of her like this… She was more than happy to do it of course, but…oh, she wanted her friend to be well! It was horrible to see her in this bed for so long… She could barely care for her own child in the state she was in. Meg's eyes closed without her permission and before she fell asleep she hoped so much that Christine would be well in the morning.

Christine's fever was gone when the dawn came. Again she awoke to Erik watching her, but it was a welcoming sight this time. They regarded each other silently for several moments before Christine closed her eyes again, a tired sigh escaping her lips. When she opened them again, Erik was standing beside her, a glass of water in his hand. She had not even heard him move.

He placed his hand behind her back to help her sit up, an action that made her tremble. Why did it seem like it had been ages since she had last seen him? She accepted the glass he gave her, but it stopped halfway to her lips when she noticed the empty corner.

"Where is he?" she said immediately, looking up at Erik with wide eyes.

"He is safe, just in the next room," Erik said.

"Oh," Christine said. She felt a strange sensation in her stomach, nervous about the child being out of her sight.

"Madame Giry has told me…" Erik paused. "They are bringing a priest today?"

Dropping her gaze, she nodded slowly. Her fingers unconsciously twisted into the bedsheet. Everyone knew it…the child needed a name in case he should die. Her grip tightened on the sheets and her hand that held the glass began to shake, so much that Erik took it from her.

He slowly lifted his hand and caressed her hair. "It will be all right, my dear." He raised the glass to her lips. "Drink this."

Christine grimaced as the cold glass touched her lips and, still drowsy and not thinking properly, shoved it roughly away. Erik said nothing, simply set the glass on the bedside table. She turned her head away from him, suddenly the sight of him was unbearable. She felt weak; she wanted to give up...just give up everything. How much longer could she stand all of this?

"Christine." Erik's voice whispered her name softly; the bed moved when he sat beside her.

Involuntarily, she looked at him again. She hated that she could think of nothing to say to him. They always talked so naturally... Instead she decided to throw her arms around his neck. Christine buried her face in his shoulder, feeling the scratch of his jacket, breathing in the scent of him. This comforted her the way nothing else could, just being so close to him, feeling his arms around her. Here she would always be safe...

When she spoke, her voice was a whisper and it sounded as if she were struggling not to cry. "What do you think...for a name?"

Erik tensed, and slowly pulled away from her, though she still held onto his arms. "You are asking me?" he asked, slightly confused.

Christine nodded, "Well, yes... I mean...I'll...we'll have to think of an original name for him. It feels wrong to name him for anyone...when he belongs to no one but myself."

She had already thought about this. Her beautiful baby boy... She had felt an urge to name him Raoul, even though that thought was ludicrous. The thought had come to her before she had the time to consider what that meant. The child was…no, it wouldn't be proper. And how would that hurt Erik? He would be named after no one.

Christine frowned in confusion when Erik stood up suddenly. "What is it?" she asked him.

"Did you know…before I was born, I was to be named for my father."

Christine's eyes widened, and she said nothing. She was afraid to do anything that would stop his commentary, curious of this story from so long ago.

"But then…I wasn't," he said simply, his voice devoid of emotion. "Oh yes, it would have been wrong to name me for anyone. I didn't deserve anyone else's name, did not deserve that connection."

Her cheeks burned and Christine desperately wanted to disappear. She couldn't bear him throwing those words at her. She thought of her son, whom she really did love so desperately, she thought that perhaps he should receive someone's name. Oh, how could anyone think otherwise? How could she have been thinking he was undeserving? It wasn't as if he was to blame for what had happened to her. He was innocent, had done nothing, didn't know the circumstances of his birth… And Erik…she hated his parents so completely for being so evil as to punish their child in such a way! His back still faced her, he could not see her weep for him. Perhaps that was better; he wouldn't like that at all. The point of the story was not to make her pity him…

The point was…that she loved her boy. She had feared so many times that she would despise him, be incapable of loving him. But now when she held and his soft blue eyes, that so reminded her of her own, stared up at her, as if he truly could recognise her as his mother, oh, it filled her with such joy. It was unfair of her to say he didn't deserve to be named for someone. He deserved it. He deserved a fine name.

She wished she were holding her son at that moment. Her son… Looking back up to Erik, she made her decision, though her tears nearly choked her as she said, "He will be named for you then."

Erik swirled around, and stared at her as if he didn't understand the language she had spoken. He shook his head slightly, as if he thought he'd simply imagined it. "What?" he asked, slowly.

Christine looked straight into his eyes and repeated, "He will be named for you. That is my decision. His name will be Erique." She stopped for a moment. "But I wanted you to help me, so…what do you think?"

Erik was so taken off guard that Christine nearly smiled. She'd never seen him this way; she had truly shocked him this time.

And he was shocked. Never had he imagined… No, this was impossible! He couldn't understand how this was happening. A child…named for him? It was not his child, no, but it would bind them. The woman he loved more than anything in the world loved him enough to name her child for him!

She was still staring at him intently, so he managed to say, "Are…Christine, are you sure that's what you want?"

"Oh yes," she said softly. "It is what I want. It's a fine name to have."

Erik was speechless. He could not think of a single thing to say…well, except for one thing. He hoped it wouldn't be too colloquial. Sitting down on the bed, he took her hand and said, "Thank you."

Christine smiled, a truly happy smile, that thrilled Erik completely. He trembled as she squeezed his hand. "You deserve this, Erik. And so does he…"

At that point, Erik stopped and took the time to examine his exact situation. It was unfathomable how it had come to pass. It was not too many years ago, when he had been a heartless murderer, a monster in his eyes and those of everyone around him. He had known then that he would die alone just like he had lived; alone, that he would never know love. But he had been wrong! Christine loved him… Never would he have imagined that events could turn the way they did. Through many tragedies, Erik was on a path towards finding true happiness and peace. He knew what he had to do.

He stood up abruptly. Running a hand through his hair, he paced a few steps before stopping to gaze down at Christine. She was so beautiful, so pleased that she had touched him. Erik struggled to sort out his thoughts.

"Erik, talk to me," Christine said to him, unable to watch him thinking so hard, knowing he wanted to tell her something.

Erik sighed, he felt so confused. Everything he had ever known about himself was so changed. He hadn't adjusted. Finally he managed to speak. "Christine… It's…I hardly recognise myself anymore. …The image of what I once was is fading now."

He stopped. Sitting back down on the bed, he took Christine's hands and looked down at them as he spoke. "I can never forget the horrors of my past, but…they are truly leaving me now. I'm becoming a different person, a new man." Looking up at her now, his fingers brushed her cheek. "One who is fit to love you. Christine, you did this. You, your love have done this. I am in your debt, for you have saved me."

Christine stared at him for a moment, tears welling in her eyes. But this time they were not tears of sadness, which was really quite a relief for her. However, she had no idea what to say to him now. His words made her so happy. She was thrilled by them, happy with herself, knowing that maybe she was truly beginning to repay him for all he done for her, for the love he had shown her.

Before she could find her voice, Erik stood up abruptly. The expression in his eyes startled her.

"What is it?" she asked him, frowning at the change that had come over him.

He stared at her for a few moments as if memorising her, penetrating her soul. "Do you trust me, Christine?"

She started slightly, wondering why he would ask such a thing. "Of course I do," she answered.

"I have to go. I promise you, I'll be back as soon as I can be."

Christine frowned, confused. "No…why? Where are you going?"

Erik knelt beside the bed and took her hand, rubbing it gently as he said, "My love, trust me. It will be all right."

She shook her head. "You can't leave me, Erik…"

"It pains me to do so, but I must."

"But why?" she cried. "Why so suddenly, why right now? Erik, please…"

Erik bent his head, "Please, don't cry, Christine. I promise it will be all right. You will be safe here. Everything will be fine." He stood then, bent over her, and kissed her lips, tasting her tears as he did so.

"Erik…." she said, in a last feeble protest.

"I love you, Christine. I will be back soon."

And then he was gone, out the door, leaving Christine with his name on her lips and tears streaming down her face. What did that mean? He would be back soon? From where? Why this decision to leave her so suddenly? He had seemed so happy a moment ago! What had happened?

Meg stopped outside the door of her building, a bag slung over her shoulder and Vincent's hand in hers. She turned to him and smiled softly. "Thank you for walking me."

"And you will tell me how things are in there?"

"Yes…Although I've already told you that Christine is all right…"

Vincent shrugged. "I know, but I don't want to have you worrying about anything by yourself."

Meg shook her head and laughed. "Vincent, you say such things…"

He attempted to look serious, but had to smile as well. "Come to me if you do have any troubles, dove."

"I do." She blushed slightly as he kissed her on the cheek, then looked towards the door. "Wish me luck," she said, squeezing his hand.

"It will be fine," he said with a smile. "And I will see you tomorrow."

Meg nodded, reluctantly released his hand and stepped inside the building, starting her trek up the stairs. She was returning from a rehearsal that had been a complete failure without her mother around. Some of the girls had tried to maintain order, but in the end it all really was pointless. She might as well have never left the house in the first place.

Meg opened the door to the flat slowly, poking her head around the door first. Her mother was sitting in a chair, reading something off of a paper, in the otherwise empty sitting room. Meg sighed and walked inside, dropping her bag by the door and plopping down in the chair nearest the door.

"How was rehearsal?" Madame Giry said, without looking up.

"Not very productive."

"Well, I expected as much."

Meg waited a few seconds, listening to nothing in the quiet room. "Is Erik here?" she asked.

Madame Giry nodded. "Yes, and you'd do well not to address him as such while he's here."

Meg looked at the floor, though her mother still hadn't looked up at her. "Is he…staying?"

"I don't know, Meg." She looked up to examine her daughter's expression. "Does it bother you that he's here?" she asked seriously.

"Oh no!" Meg answered immediately. Christine wanted Erik here after all…. "No, it doesn't bother me really…"

Madame Giry frowned. "Is there something wrong?"

Meg shook her head. "No…it's just…strange…"

"What's strange?" she asked, going back to the letter in her hand.

"I don't know…" Meg muttered.

"You're mumbling, Meg."

"I know."

Madame Giry looked up, annoyed, and put the letter down on the table beside her. "Meg Giry, what is the matter with you? Now I asked you if you minded him being here and you told me that you didn't, so I don't expect to hearanything else from you."

"Yes Mama," Meg said quietly. She hadn't meant to bother her mother… She didn't know what was wrong really. Erik's presence didn't bother her. But it did feel strange. She couldn't describe it to her mother, because she knew him too well. But Meg knew him only through what Christine said about him. Well…and through their brief encounter the other night. It was odd to think of herself getting to know him personally. He was supposed to be an enigma to everyone wasn't he?

It was odd to think of herself getting to know Erik. But she did have reason to trust him now, and not just because of what Christine told her, but because he hadn't said anything to her mother about finding her with Vincent the night before. Not that Meg expected her mother was completely oblivious…and she wasn't trying to keep Vincent a secret…he just hadn't been brought up officially yet.

She sighed and stood up, grabbing her bag and quickly ducking into her room. She would have liked to talk to Christine, but Erik was with her… Christine didn't need her right now. Of course not, not with Erik around… He was all she needed.

Just then, she heard the front door close and then Christine's voice call, "Meg?"

Perhaps not…

A/N: In regards to the child's name, Erique… He is so named because I rather wanted a less Germanic spelling and a more…pure French spelling I guess. Now, the "proper" French spelling of Erik…is Eric, but I figured if the baby was named that everyone would have about ten heart attacks and die. And that would be no fun at all. And so, his name is Erique, which is unusual, but I figured it would go over better than Eric :P

Thanks so much for reading! Please leave me a review! : ) Thanks a lot!


	29. How Sweet the Answer

A/N: Another long wait...sorry about that everyone. Thank you for your patience!

Midasgirl: I hope you have some idea of how much your compliments mean to me and how much they inspire me. Thank you so much for all of your support. And...sorry this is going up before Angel of Music! Oops...

Fantome: I am so glad that you enjoy this story. I know it's not a Legolas/Jesus story or anything, but I can't really measure up to Cujo in some respects...lol. Anyway, I appreciate your continued reading of this : )

Soldier of Darkness: gasp You read this at a normal hour of the day? I'm shocked! Hehe, after all this time, it's lovely to have you still reading.

Olethros: Yes, this update is just for you, Julie! Hope you enjoy.

Thank you everyone for your touching and lovely compliments. That thank you is of course to the following beautiful people: Angelic Lawyer, nicole, draegon-fire, Mystic Darkness, Phantomgurl33, Miranda7911, and Claire Starling

I don't think this chapter is one of my bests, but hopefully the content will be nice enough to block out my lack of writing skills. And do remember, this is not the end of the story. There is much to come, more events and lots of ends to tie up, yes? So begins the process of that. The beginning of the end. Hope you all enjoy and please do tell me what you think! All comments are appreciated.

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Christine opened her eyes slowly and quickly shut them again. Everything around her was blurry, she couldn't see clearly. The room was in semi-darkness, and she struggled to make her vision adjust. Feeling rather detached from everything around her, she pulled the blanket off of her and attempted to sit up. However, she found herself unable to do so. Turning her head to look out the window, she just barely saw a black shadow cross in front of it.

Unsure if she had seen it inside the room, or outside, her eyes widened in alarm. "Erik?" she heard herself call.

There was no response, the room seemed to grow more fuzzy before her eyes. Frightened now, she tried again to sit up, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She screamed and looked up.

Her shoulders sagged in relief when, through the mist of her vision, she recognized a black mask and cloak. "Erik, what...?"

But he did not let her speak, holding up his hand to stop her. In the same hand, appeared a large silver key. Without speaking, he took her hand, opened it up, and pressed it into her palm.

Christine panicked when he began to back away from her. "Wait, where are you going?" she asked him anxiously.

Shaking his head, he continued to back away until the gloom of the room enveloped him and he vanished. Crying out, she tried again to sit up. This time she managed it. Clutching the key in her hand, she meant to stand up then and there when a voice stopped her.

"Christine!"

She froze then. Her heart pounding, she began to turn around when, in a great rush the light was stolen from the room. She let out another shout and sat straight up into Meg's arms. "Raoul!"

"Christine!" Meg called again.

Christine opened her eyes and focused on her friend who held her up right, Meg's face visible in the candlelight. Quickly, Christine looked down into her clenched fist to find the key was gone.

"Christine, you were shouting in your sleep."

She looked up at Meg, then again down at her empty hand. "Yes...a dream..." Christine said.

Meg smiled at her softly and helped her to lay back down. Frowning, she touched Christine's cheek, her fingers coming back wet with her friend's tears. "What did you dream about?"

Christine shook her head. "Nothing...I don't remember. Erik, I think..."

Meg nodded sadly. "It's all right, dear. I'm sure we'll hear from him very soon."

Biting her lip, she nodded her head once. "Yes...I'm sure we will..." Christine turned her head quickly then, to look towards the window. There was nothing there of course, but she had wanted to look... Bringing her gaze back to her friend she said, "I'm sorry I woke you, Meg...Go back to sleep."

"And you will be all right?"

"Yes, of course... Just...bring me my child, please."

Meg smiled softly and rose from the bed, crossing the room to the small bassinette. She lifted the small bundle of blankets, in which a babe could hardly be seen. She held the child delicately, as if afraid he might break, her steps were careful and measured. Sitting down on the bed first, she handed Erique to Christine who took him gratefully.

She smiled softly. "Thank you, Meg...will you leave us now? I'm tired."

Meg nodded and left, the door shutting with a quiet click.

There was silence in the room then. Shadows moved eerily on the walls in the candlelight. Christine liked it. The dark was comforting. Her head turned to the window again. She was crying still...she had heard Raoul's voice in her dream. Oh she couldn't believe it! She was hearing his voice. Although this was comforting in a way, at least she hadn't forgotten his voice, it upset her all the same. And the dream had ended too soon...oh if only she had had time to turn around! She could have seen him! Tears ran freely now as she stared at the window, the direction his voice had come from. Perhaps if she stared hard enough he would appear...

Perhaps not... She sighed, and looked down at Erique, who she held carefully in her arms. Christine struggled to put Raoul from her mind. He was gone, after all. He was gone and he was not coming back. Someday she might actually accept that.

Her dream confused her. It was random, stemmed from the fact that she missed Erik no doubt. Oh God, she missed him... It seemed an eternity since he had left her. In reality it had been a few days, but every hour without him seemed to go on forever. Surely he would return for her soon. Meg kept saying that, but...what if he didn't? What if he decided that he couldn't deal with a child? Couldn't deal with her anymore? She had tried not to be difficult! Her fears were irrational, somewhere inside she knew that. But at that moment, her heart was breaking. She wanted Erik beside her, to hold her hand and kiss away her tears. But she did not even know where he was or when he would return.

Erique was looking at her now, his innocent, wide-eyed gaze, forcing a small smile to Christine's lips. She bent to kiss his nose and he gurgled up at her.

Turning her head to look out the window, she just barely saw a black shadow cross in front of it.

Unsure if she had seen it inside the room, or outside, her eyes widened in alarm. "Erik?" she heard herself call.

"It's all right, Christine."

She heard herself gasp as her head turned sharply to see where Erik stood, hovering over her. Tears formed in her eyes quickly. "You're here," she sighed softly.

He nodded gravely, the dark and the mask hiding any expression his face might have held. He sat down on the bed beside her, his eyes hovering on the child in her arms for a few moments. Then his eyes swept up to meet hers. Christine desperately wanted to fling her arms around him...

As if he could hear every word she was thinking, he took the baby from her gently and carried him back to his little bed. When he returned to her, Christine did not attempt to contain herself. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him before burying her face in his shoulder. "Oh my love, where did you go?" she asked him softly, wanting some sort of explanation.

Untangling himself from her embrace, Erik reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver key. Christine's eyes widened at the sight of it, the same key from her dream.... Her eyes darted automatically back to the window, as if this time Raoul would be standing there. Scolding herself, she looked back to the key, then up at Erik. "I don't understand," she said, shaking her head.

"You will have to forgive me Christine, for what I have done without your knowledge, but I had to move fast, you must understand..."

"Erik, I didn't ask for an apology. I just want to know where you have been...why you left me here."

He flinched. How he wished she wouldn't speak as if he abandoned her. She must have known he'd come back as soon as he could... "This is the key to a house on the Rue des Peniches, Christine," he began, quickly charging ahead so she would not have the chance to cut him off. "I have bought it, it belongs to me...I thought that perhaps you could stay there. You will need somewhere to live...for a child to live, you see." He stopped, the lump in his throat choking him. He couldn't remember speaking so awkwardly before... Oh this was going to be more difficult than he thought. How would he get through this!

Christine stared at him in disbelief. He was sending her away... Was he mad! Did he truly think she would accept this arrangement? "I won't leave..." she began, but he interrupted her.

"I bought the house for you, Christine...but...if you were about to say that you won't leave me..." Erik closed his eyes deeply and willed his heart to stop beating so quickly. "You could marry me."

Instantly, Christine's hands moved to cover her face as a wave of emotion flooded through her. Oh, she had heard him correctly. This was it, this was the moment... She lowered her hands, knowing that Erik could very well interpret the movement in the wrong way. She stared at him and he met her gaze steadily. She sensed the tension in him, he was bracing himself for her answer...

But before she said anything, he had taken hold of her hand and was speaking again. "Wait...I can't do this anymore. This is it for me. I ask your hand because I love you and I cannot deny it any longer. There is something between us now...more than that." He stopped and closed his eyes briefly. "I want you to be mine, forever, Christine. I ask that you forget what has happened in the past and accept me...despite my faults. This is the commitment I want for us, Christine. I will not lose you. If we will raise this child together...then so be it. I cannot bear to part with you.

Christine listened to the last part of his speech with her eyes shut tightly. She couldn't believe this... She smiled then and let out a sound half way between a laugh and a sob. "I never thought it would be like this."

"Like what?" Erik asked carefully, unsure of what she meant to say.

She laughed slightly, "I just always had the silly notion that it would be more romantic when you proposed to me... Perhaps on the roof of the opera with the stars shining overhead..." She smiled at the perfection of it that could not be real. "I never imagined it would be like this, with me in this bed looking like this," she said, pulling on her tangled hair.

"Must I tell you again, Christine? You are always beautiful..."

She smiled, "You say that..." This was it now, the time she had to accept, but suddenly it felt awkward saying it to him. She rather wished he would know that her answer was yes. "I will marry you, Erik," she said at last. Taking his hand, she smiled. "Of course I will."

His hand went limp in hers. Before Christine's eyes a dramatic change came about him. He abandoned his posture, his formal elegance... He raised his eyes to look at her and she was shocked to see tears there.

"Erik..." she scolded softly. "This is not a time for tears." Her hand rose and slipped under his mask to touch his cheek and he grabbed hold of her wrist.

"Well allow it for a moment," he said sharply. Erik's eyes closed briefly. "I couldn't imagine ever actually hearing those words from you."

"And now you have," she said gently. She shook her head slightly, a small smile playing around her lips. "It amazes me that I can touch you so. I love that I have that ability. And...I'm glad I've finally realized how to use it properly."

Erik stared at her for a moment, then pulled her into a crushing embrace, holding her to him tightly. "Christine, everything you do touches me. Every moment you are in my presence, every time you smile, or cry, or take a breath. You are everything to me."

Christine's eyes widened while Erik spoke, tears formed quickly in her eyes. This was why love was all worth it, because of what was given back by loving. She could have stayed in Erik's arms like that forever. In fact, she planned on it, but he pulled away from her. She whimpered as his arms left her.

He stood up and the bed shook slightly at the abruptness of his movement. His back was to her and she could she see him taking deep breaths.

"Whatever it is you have to say, I wish you would just tell me," Christine said, gently. He always acted like this when he had something important to say...it made her nervous.

His shoulders relaxed at her words, but he did not turn to face her. That made her more nervous. "I want to say...this child will have my full support, Christine."

That's why he didn't turn around. He was looking at the boy of whom he spoke. Tears that had been threatening Christine now fell freely. She was ashamed of them, she had just told Erik that this was not a time for tears...but she couldn't help it. Erique...who was not his, who belonged to no one but Christine herself, he offered to raise him! She couldn't begin to comprehend the depth of this decision. Erik, who had never been shown any love in his lifetime, showed Christine such compassion. He loved her still. She was not pure, she had a child with no father, and this was his response!

At last, Erik turned, his eyes so full of emotion that Christine could hardly stand it... She shook her head and looked at him steadily, her eyes swimming with tears. "How can you look at me like that?"

To her surprise he smiled slightly, then knelt beside her bed, taking her hand. "I love you and I've known for as long as I've felt this for you...I would love you always and no matter what. This isn't your fault, my dearest Christine."

She began to cry out loud, unable to contain the sobs building up in her chest. His fingers gently touched her wet cheek and again he smiled. "This is not a time for tears," he said, repeating what she had said to him.

Christine smiled despite herself, but she continued to cry. She couldn't stop, she loved him so much...no matter what...he wouldn't desert her. They would be married! "You are the most wonderful man I have ever met, Erik," she said honestly. "I offered to leave you once... You should have found me repulsive, but you didn't. You love me still...."

Erik nodded. "I do."

An enormous sob shook her and she threw herself on him, desperate to be in his arms again. He was everything to her now. She and her child would be cared for and safe...with Erik.

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When Christine awoke the next morning Erik was no where to be seen. She sat straight up and began to panic. No...what if it had been a dream as well? Was it too good to be true? "Erik!" she cried.

At this, the child in the corner began to cry, just as the bedroom door opened and Erik stepped inside. He looked about to ask her what was wrong, but instead turned his attention to the baby. After taking just a moment to decide he started towards the bassinet.

"Wait," Christine said and waited for him to turn back to her. She held out her arm. "Help me up."

He frowned. "Christine...no, you should stay where you are."

"Erik," she insisted. "Please..."

Without another word he took hold of her forearm and took most of her weight as she eased herself out of the bed. His arm went around her waist as he helped her to walk across the room.

Christine leaned down into the cradle and picked up Erique, so tiny in her arms. She rocked him and spoke to him softly as Erik kept his hands on her shoulders, just staring down at them both. The oddest feeling was spreading through him, watching his Christine, cradling her infant that bore his name, because he was there too. He completed the tableau.

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A/N: And there you have it. I apologise for the shortness. Thanks so much for reading! Please review!


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